Memoirs of Draco Malfoy
by Everett Scott
Summary: When Lord Voldemort returns, Lucius is once again his loyal servant. But what happens when he wants Draco to follow in his footsteps, and serve the same Dark Lord? And what happens when others in Slytherin start believing? Who will Draco turn to?
1. Malfoy Manor Malady

Memoirs of Draco Malfoy  
  
By  
  
Everett Scott  
  
Chapter One  
  
Malfoy Manor Malady  
  
The train came to a stop and students began to disembark. School was over for another year and no one was soon to forget this one. The Tri-Wizard tournament was still fresh in their minds, dueling dragons, saving people from drowning, and battling through an impossible maze. But Dumbledore's words came back as they stepped through the gate onto the muggle platform and greeted their parents. "Voldemort has returned."  
  
Most students had yet to accept the fact. Some of the older ones, and many of the seventh years who had just recently passed the NEWT examinations understood the implications of what their Headmaster had said. He told them so that they could be watchful. They knew many wizards, like their young classmates, would flatly refuse to believe that their worst enemy could dare return. They had lived without his threat, and with little reminders of him, for too long to just let him come back into their lives. They would act as if it weren't true until something terrible happened and forced them to accept the facts.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy stood at the gate waiting. She wore a robe of pale sky blue and a white silk throw over her shoulders. Her hair was pulled back, it hung just below her shoulders and was just as blond as Draco's. She wore a very expensive pair of Italian high heels and tapped her foot in annoyance. Silver rings covered her fingers and a diamond pendant hung around her neck. There was a look of superiority on her face as she stared at the students and their parents coming through the barrier. This look was quickly being replaced by one of deep aggravation. Her cold, steel gray eyes narrowed as the train's conductor came into view. Where was her son, he knew they were in a rush.  
  
Finally, exasperated, she crossed through onto platform nine and three quarters. He wasn't on the magical platform either, she could see his trunk sitting outside the train. He couldn't be far. "Draco!" she called out sternly. She waited impatiently. She was most unhappy as she boarded the train she hadn't set foot in for so many years. She looked down the long corridor and saw him immediately. He was lying in a crumpled mess on the floor, and what was he covered in? She walked quickly to where he laid, "Draco get up!" Her tone was becoming very angry and her voice rose in pitch. She pulled her wand hastily from her pocket, "Ennervate!" Her son's eyes rushed open and looked around him furiously. He suddenly recognized his Mother's shoes and followed her form up to look into her narrowed eyes. "Well don't just lay there mister, you're father's waiting for us." Draco jumped to his feet, obedient to his mother's harsh words. She shook her head as she looked him over and walked off the train, "Oh you are a fine mess aren't you?"  
  
He began to protest, "But mother it's all Potter's."  
  
She cut him off with a quick tap to the back of his head, "Have you or have you not been trained in the ways of dueling? Has our hard earned money gone to waste? If Harry Potter can best you at dueling it is your own god damn fault and no one else's." She shook her head, "Hold still, we can't go out with you looking like that." There was pride in her voice that she herself didn't look the way he did, and a certain disgust that he did. "Finite Incantatem!" The marks left his body and he breathed a sigh of relief. "Hurry up." His mother called from behind, not giving him any time to think on the absence of pain.  
  
He stepped down off the train and picked up his trunk. He began dragging it behind him as his mother led the way through the gate out to a waiting car. The driver bowed respectably to Narcissa and Draco. He put the boy's luggage into the trunk of the luxury car and climbed behind the wheel. He tapped the steering wheel with his wand, "Malfoy Manor!" The car lurched forward. It darted in between cars and squeezed through alley ways.  
  
Narcissa kept her body totally rigid as the car tried to shake her from side to side. Draco was having a harder time staying in his seat. He had just turned fifteen in April, he was now growing taller than his mother, but he wasn't used to these types of automobiles. He jerked back and forth, sometimes he had to put his arm out to keep from falling into his mother's lap. The look of disgust hadn't left her face, in fact it had grown. She clucked her tongue as his head flung forward and nearly hit the seat.  
  
The car had come to rest in front of Malfoy Manor. It was a very large estate, which was located many kilometers outside of London, far away from prying muggle eyes. There was a wrought iron fence around the entire property, the house was set back from this obstacle and the driveway came up in a half circle right to the door.  
  
The chauffeur held the door open for Narcissa, who stepped out gracefully as if there were people watching her. Draco clambered out after his mother and sneered at the driver. He walked up the stone path to the door. The Malfoy Coat of Arms was engraved in the set of double doors and they were opened as Narcissa and her son approached by a wrilly looking house elf. She bowed low to the ground in fearful patronage, "Madame Malfoy and her son, Master Malfoy." Narcissa didn't respond. She pushed past her servant and entered the drawing room.  
  
"Your father's in his study Draco, he wants you to see him before you do anything else." Draco nodded and walked through the long hallways. Even though it was the start of the summer months, the hallways were cold and unwelcoming. The paintings and armor that hung on the wall were uninviting to Draco and a shiver ran up his spine.  
  
The door to his father's study was slightly ajar and Draco pushed it open. His father had a trunk open in the middle of the room and was running wildly around pulling books off shelves and throwing them in. He emptied a large armload and looked up as he heard Draco come in. "I'm leaving for a while Draco, something important has come up." Draco's cold eyes met his father's with no change, "Dumbledore told us about the Dark Lord. Is it true then father, he has returned?" Lucious seemed to have expected this, "Yes, Dumbledore would have told you all wouldn't he. Still trying to protect his students."  
  
He lifted up a rug behind his large wooden desk and opened a vault. "Yes Draco, it's true. Our Lord has finally returned." He pulled out a brightly glowing sword and the same sort of shield to go with it. He closed his trunk once and opened it again. He deposited the two items into another compartment and then shut and locked the lid. He walked slowly over to his son and placed both hands onto his shoulders. He looked into the gray eyes that were so much like his own. "Soon he will be back to his old self again, and you can have an introduction Draco. But for now there is nothing you can do. Keep watch over the house and finish your studies so that you can pass your OWLs next year. When I return I will take you and we shall initiate you into our order."  
  
Draco was horrified. He felt no desire to meet the wizard that so many people feared. He was quite content to finish his summer without incident and to return to Hogwarts. He smiled his twisted smile at his Father, trying to hide the emotions raging inside him. His father seemed please at Draco's solemn response. He took it as a sign that his son would soon be ready to pledge his life to the work of the Dark Lord he served. He would wait until he had finished his school work before fully enrolling him. Dumbledore would become suspicious of their family if the dark mark was to show up on Draco while at Hogwarts. And it would be impossible for Draco to respond to the Dark Lord's calling. Yes, best to wait until after graduation. By then Voldemort would be at full strength and that despicable child Potter would be dead.  
  
Lucious picked up his trunk and walked out of his study. Draco stepped out of the way to let his father pass and then followed him into the drawing room where his Mother sat drinking tea from their best set of china. "Are you leaving now then, dear?" she asked without leaving the chair she occupied. Lucious nodded once as he set down the trunk he'd been levitating, "Yes. I'll be home shortly before the boy is to leave for Hogwarts again." He spoke as if Draco were not standing directly behind him. Narcissa inclined her chin down in acknowledgment, "Do try and be careful." The scorn she wore was sickening to her husband and his eye twitched as he tried to control an outburst of anger. He grimaced, "Of course my dear. And now I'm off." He smiled once at Draco behind him and disapparated.  
  
Narcissa breathed a sigh of relief once her husband had left and she vacated the room herself. Draco stared at the spot his father had just occupied, why did he have to leave so soon after he'd arrived home and why did he have these hopes of Draco following in his footsteps? Draco let out a small sigh and sauntered out the door and up the winding stone steps that led to his room.  
  
His room was on the third floor of the mansion, it was on the opposite side of the Manor from his Mother's, and his Father normally slept in his study or in his lounge bar in the dungeons. Draco opened his door and stared at the room which hadn't been touched in a year. Although no dust had collected on his things he could tell that nothing had been disturbed by prying servants, or parents for that matter, Draco thought. To one side of the room was a large wood desk and chair. A lamp stood off to one side so that Draco could finish his studies at night, and an ink stand made like a serpent sat on the other. He despised snakes, he hated the thought of them. Every where he looked in Malfoy Manor he saw snakes. On the taps, on the walls, in painting, in the tapestries, they were even carved into his ceilings. Why was his family so obsessed with snakes? A large armoire was pushed against the wall opposite his bed. He kept his dress robes as well as some of his more preferred summer wear in this so that they wouldn't become wrinkled during his long months away at Hogwarts. His walls were bare. There were no pictures, no posters, nothing that indicated an adolescent lived in this room.  
  
He shut his door behind him and opened up his trunk, which the chauffeur had brought up. He took out his books and set them on his desk. He pulled out his Slytherin robes and stuffed them at the very rear of his closet, he didn't want to see those robes until he boarded the train again in September. He stripped off the ones he was wearing, there were holes from where Potter and is little friends had cursed him. He crumpled them up and threw them into the waste paper basket. He pulled out a pair of loose fitting pants and a casual black robe from his armoire. He sat down lazily onto his four poster and leaned his head against the wall.  
  
He was angry at his father. How could his father simply assume that Draco would follow the same path as he did? His father expected top grades, Draco had average marks in everything. Everything except potions which he excelled in to the point he had higher marks even than that silly girl Granger. His father expected obedience, Draco would rather laugh in his father's face than perform some of the services he'd done. His father expected him to lust after the dark arts and to become loyal to his master, Draco.  
  
"Draco." His mother's voice interrupted his thoughts. Why did she always need him for something? She paraded him around in front of her friends like he was a show dog. She had him run errands that any of the house elves could have done. Every time she looked at him there was the same disgrace on her face. He could see the hatred in her eyes. Why did she despise him so? Was he not good enough to be her son? Were his grades and social ineptitudes that embarrassing to her? Was he really that bad that.  
  
"Draco, come dear we have company. Come downstairs and say hello." His summer had begun and it was hardly a vacation for him.  
  
He swung his feet over the side of his bed and let out a long sigh. Only three years left and then he could move as far away from this place as he could. That is to say unless his Father forced him into the service that he himself was a slave to. He walked across the room and went to answer his Mother's call.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He was a week into his vacation, if anyone could call this a vacation. At least once a day his mother had had company, and each time he was expected to put in an appearance. He showered and put on clean robes before going down and acted like the young Malfoy he was supposed to. After a half an hour or so he would make an excuse to leave and traipse back up to his room. He would strip off the uncomfortable robes for more casual ones and sit on his bed reading.  
  
This Sunday was no different. It was two O'clock when he was rudely awoken by one of the house elves. "Young Master Malfoy must get up!" it squeaked in a panicky, high pitched voice. He rolled over and pulled the covers up over his head, "Go 'way." He could sense the servant had not left, "Madame Malfoy requests that you show your hospitality to her guests, Mrs. Crabbe and Mrs. Goyle."  
  
He slowly lowered the covers and peered out at the elf standing very nervously just inside his room. She was wringing her hands continuously as he stared at her. If Crabbe and Goyle were here that would at least give him something to do. He got up out of bed and could see the house elf breathe a sigh of relief before she bowed low and left the room. Draco showered quickly and threw on a pair of his more relaxed robes, ones he felt comfortable in and ones he knew his mother would not scold him for wearing.  
  
He took the steps two at a time and burst into the drawing room. He stopped dead in his tracks. His mother was sitting with Mrs. Crabbe and Mrs. Goyle but their sons were no where to be seen. Perhaps they'd found their way to the kitchen already, thought Draco, those two were always hungry.  
  
He straightened his robes quickly and proceeded the rest of the way into the room. "Mrs. Crabbe, Mrs. Goyle, how nice to see you." He bowed his head slightly as he said each of their names. They each nodded in return but didn't speak. "Are your sons around here somewhere?" Draco asked in a voice which he hoped would not give away his eagerness. Even if he hated being around those two, hated their stupidity, and hated their families, having lousy company was better than no company at all. A slightly evil grin had come across his mother's face, one which she usually wore when he had done something foolish and made himself look bad. "You mean you haven't heard, Draco?" Draco disliked the games she played with him, he shook his head, "Haven't heard what Mother?"  
  
Her grin spread further across her face and the same ones appeared on the faces of the large women sitting opposite her. "It seems that young Misters Crabbe and Goyle did so bad on their exams that their father's sent them away to Durmstang for the summer to catch up." His mother was taking great pleasure in telling his this terrible news.  
  
He was surprised that the two women sitting across from her were not defending their children. "We've been after our husbands for years to do something about their ineptitude, and their recent exams were the final straw." Mrs. Goyle nodded in agreement to what her best friend had said, "Yes it seems that Durmstangs runs a very rigorous summer class schedule. It should be enough to get them back up to the same level as their classmates, although they will only be returning home a day or so before they're bound for Hogwarts again." Neither one of the women sitting down seemed to care that their son's were horribly stupid people, and made no effort to hide that fact either.  
  
Now though Draco's summer was looking dim. Before it had looked bad, the thought of spending the entire time, as usual, with the two people that he least wanted to spend time with. Now he would probably end up playing show dog for his mother all summer. "Oh don't look so worried Draco," his mother interrupted, "I've got something special planned for you. You won't be desperately lonely this summer without your little friends." There were two lies in what his mother had just said, "little," and "friends," but he didn't correct either as she continued. "The Quidditch Association of England is starting up a youth program this year. It's a new type of Quidditch, a revised edition I should say, which only consists of three chasers and one hoop. It sounds most entertaining." Draco rolled his eyes, his mother's idea of entertainment was having him out of the house. "Practices are every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday from five until nine and games are Saturday nights. It starts tomorrow, you can use the floo network to get there." She smiled at him, he hated the floo network. He came out covered in soot and the dust made his lungs tighten inside his chest.  
  
This new development made the summer look a little more interesting. Although the thought, the knowledge, that his mother had only signed him up for this league to get him out of her way made him feel uneasy. He would have to show off for her friends during the day and then go off tired and play Quidditch at night after supper.  
  
He asked to be excused, his lie this time being that if practices started tomorrow he would have to tune up his Nimbus 2001 before he started using it again. He slowly made his way up the steps and into his room. He gave the door a good slam and plopped down onto his bed. Why did he seem to have all the good luck? His father had gone off chasing muggles and mudbloods with his dear leader Voldemort, who was, Draco though, a mudblood himself. The two people he thought he could count on for a least a bit of entertainment and company were off at some god forsaken school taking remedial classes. And his mother disliked him so much she'd sign him up for summer Quidditch, which the way she explained it didn't even sound like proper Quidditch or any where near it. The way his luck was going he'd be stuck on a team with Scar head and his trusted side-kick carrot top.  
  
He shrugged off the robes he'd put on for his Mother and picked his broom up, which was leaned in the corner. He sat down on his desk chair and pulled out the broom servicing kit he'd used during the year. He neatly trimmed back the stray straw. Draco hadn't used his broom much last year since there had been no Quidditch season, only that stupid Tri-Wizard Tournament. He had despised that competition. It was no more than a competition of fools. Cedric Diggory couldn't have been the Hogwarts champion. There had to have been someone who would have stood up to the Dark Lord's little helper. Someone who wouldn't have died. That veela whore Fleur was no better. She had charmed the Goblet to pick her name just as she had charmed all of the boys who had asked her to the Yule Ball. Viktor Krum, now he was a champion. He was smart, courageous, and an excellent seeker. The only thing Krum lacked was finesse. He was so awkward and had such a hideous face Draco was surprised, to say the least, at how girls at school had acted around him.  
  
Which brought him to Potter. Famous Harry Potter couldn't even get through one school year without saving the world. Harry Potter saved them all from Quirrel. Harry Potter saved the school from a Basilisk. Harry Potter.Draco had had enough of Harry Potter to last him a lifetime.  
  
But Harry had it easy. Harry could save the world as many times as he wanted to but he could never do the things that Draco did. Draco had to put up with a Mother who couldn't bring herself to look at her own son without hatred flooding her face. Draco, who's own Father simply wanted a son who would follow in his footsteps and serve a wizard Draco thought the world might be better without. Draco, who could only have friendships with Slytherins and the children of DeathEaters. Draco, who's family name haunted him wherever he went. Hanging like a storm cloud above his head for the whole world to judge him as he walked through life. Draco, who couldn't even be sorted properly. His name had been called and the hat had never touched his head. Every Malfoy who had ever attended Hogwarts had been sorted into Slytherin and that was no accident. Draco couldn't even be himself around friends. His friends were sons and daughters of family friends and if he said or acted out of place, even at school or in his own dormitory, it would get back to his Father somehow.  
  
Yes, Potter had it easy, Draco thought. All Potter had to do was smile and wave at the cameras. Potter couldn't even do that right though. Potter cowered away from the fame. He cowered away from the media. He walked in the shadows to avoid the glory of who he was. And it only made Draco hate him more. Why couldn't Potter be arrogant so that Draco could hate him properly? Why couldn't Potter hate Draco the way he hated him? Why did Potter have to show remorse, have to show pity, have to show compassion? These things were as alien to him as money was to the Weasleys, thought Draco. His Father had never taught pity. "If your enemy lets his guard down, run him threw." His Father had taught him that fencing.  
  
He glanced down and realized that he had been polishing the wood of his broom now for an hour. It was dark outside as the sun had set and Draco had taken no notice, he hadn't even lit his lamp. He put away the different components of his servicing kit and stood his broom back into the corner of his room. He lit the lamp on his desk with a quick prod from his wand. The enchantments on the property kept ministry eyes from seeing anything that went on inside the gates and so Draco was able to his use wand freely over the summer months away from Hogwarts, it was one of the only things Draco enjoyed about the Manor. He pulled on clean robes and tidied his hair. No doubt Crabbe and Goyles Mother's were staying for dinner. They had the same appetites as their sons, and Draco knew that their chef was far superior to any other in England. The prospect of having to sit through dinner with his mother was bad enough. But the thought of having to watch those two glutinous women eat and gossip was almost too much for him. Perhaps he could claim he was ill and simply eat in his room before going to bed? Or perhaps he could.  
  
"Draco." His mother had a way of knowing exactly when he was trying to avoid her and always called him directly to her side. "Draco, dinner is in a few minutes. Our guest will be staying as well, why don't you come down and join us for a drink before hand?" She had probably already had quite a few to drink, as had her guests, Draco assumed, and it only made her voice more irritable to him.  
  
He let out a long sigh and left the sanctuary of his bed chamber and headed out into the unknown. What Draco wouldn't have given at that moment to simply have vanished on the spot. Yes, his summer prospects were looking dimmer and dimmer by the day, only a month and some weeks left, Draco told himself as he walked down the spiral stairs, until it would be time for him to board the Hogwarts Express and go back to school. Hogwarts had become like a home for him, he felt more comfortable in the castle than he did his own Manor. He looked forward to going back and was mentally counting off the days.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	2. The Youth Quidditch Association of Engla...

Chapter Two  
  
The Youth Quidditch Association of England  
  
Part I  
  
Draco was not looking forward to this Quidditch league. Sure it would get him away from his Mother for a few hours a few times a week, but by taking a quick look around he thought he'd rather spend time with her than these amateurs. Most of the players looked to be in their second or third year of schooling, but Draco didn't recognize any of them from Hogwarts. They were clustered in groups of two or three and spread out widely across the Quidditch field. He walked lazily in between the groups trying to find someone he thought looked interesting, but so far he hadn't met anyone. Most of the brooms Draco saw had been out of date since before he was born, and their robes were so torn and tattered that they looked like they had been handed down through the generations since Quidditch had been invented.  
  
How could his Mother have signed him up for this. It must have been his Mother's idea of a joke, he didn't belong among these misfits. He had more magic in his index finger that most of these squibs had in their whole body. He was surprised to see that the brooms even responded to their touch. These were the type of people that Potter and Weasley hung around with, not Malfoys.  
  
And it was at that moment that he saw a flash of fiery red hair and the glimmer of a decent set of robes that Draco saw them. Potter and his Weasley friends. They were standing underneath the three hoops at the opposite end of where Draco had started. Potter had his back leaned casually against the pole and was flanked on either side by his side kick and his little sister, the one who'd opened the Chamber of Secrets his second year. Draco was surprise that they could afford brooms, but upon further inspection he saw their brooms were among the worst here.  
  
A scowl had come over Draco's face as he stormed towards the group. He checked that his wand was still tucked in the back of his robes as he pushed past a terrified group of what he assumed were first years. He saw Potter catch his eye and nudge his side kick, who turned and looked in the direction he'd pointed. A glare came across his face as he saw Draco. Potter had straightened up and was reaching for his wand. Draco had covered half the distance, he didn't know what he was going to do when he got to where Potter stood, but he wanted revenge. Revenge for making him look like a fool on the train, and for everything else they had ever done to him.  
  
Draco was less than ten yards from where Potter was standing when a loud explosion went off at the other end of the field. Draco spun around to see what had happened, expecting the worst, it seems many other had as well, but it was nothing more than a small wizard with his wand in the air. "If you could all gather around the stage here, we can begin." Draco threw a final stare over his shoulder at Potter and his friends before he was swept away with the crowd to the other end of the field.  
  
The group of a hundred young students quickly formed a half circle around the makeshift stage where the tiny wizard stood. There was quiet now as everyone stood expectantly for the small man to speak again. Draco caught sight of Potter on the outskirts of the of the circle. He pushed his way out of the middle, he hated being touched, especially by people he deemed inferior.  
  
Finally the wizard spoke, "First let me welcome you all to the first attempt at a summer Quidditch league. As you know we have adapted the rules a little to accommodate our allotted time. Each team will consist of only three chasers, which will handle the quaffle as is normal. They will score as many times as possible on the single goal hoop during the given time of two hours. At the end of the two hours the team with the most points will win the match. After one hour there will be a ten minute break before the start of the second hour. Are there any questions on this?" The wizard, who was fastly reminding Draco of a slightly taller version of Professor Flitwick, looked at the group gathered around him almost lovingly.  
  
When there were obviously no questions he continued, "The teams will be divided by age groups, eleven and twelve, thirteen, fourteen and fifteen, and sixteen and seventeen. Each group will have practices three times a week, Monday Wednesday, and Friday from five until nine, with games on Saturdays. The games will be held anywhere from ten in the morning until ten at night, the older students playing later at night. Each age group will have two coaches who will go from group to group and help out during practices. The practices will he held here and we will be setting up as many fields as necessary. Now when I call your name, please meet your teammates up at the front of the stage." The small man, who Draco finally recognized as Ludo Bagman's younger brother, started calling off names. He began with the younger teams and worked his way up, each team it seemed was arranged somewhat alphabetically. He finished the first league and began on the second. Draco was becoming quite shifty as more and more names were called, leaving less and less people he considered further to be his teammates. Finally He heard his name called, "Malfoy, Draco." Followed in quick session by the names he had feared he would be stuck with, "Potter, Harry." Which was followed by the usual gasps, and a very loud groan from Draco. "And Weasley, Ginny."  
  
Draco was pleased to see that there was a look of disgust on Potter's face ass well as his own, and that his side-kick was trying to encourage the possibility of switching teams. Draco waited at the stage for his teammates. Potter and his little girlfriend certainly took their sweet time, and the scowl he wore was one to rival his own. Bagman was holding out a piece of parchment that Potter snatched away from him and led the Weasley girl to the side of the Quidditch field.  
  
Potter stopped at the edge and spun around, Draco nearly fell over as he tried to stop himself from running into him. They glared at each other, neither one speaking. Draco seemed to be breathing right down Potter's neck. "Well this will be an interesting experience, won't it Potter." He cracked a very sly smile, a wicked one. "Maybe you'll learn something."  
  
Potter took a small step closer, a very stubborn look coming over him, "I don't ever want to learn something from you." He spat this at Draco, but it only increased his grin, "Why not Potter, there's so much I can teach you." Potter laughed at this, it was a cold, sarcastic laugh "What could I ever learn from you? How to hate mudbloods, how to torture other wizards, how to kill muggles. I think I'll pass thanks."  
  
Potter's cheeks had turned an interesting shade of red, and the red head next to him was shaking. Draco shook his head, the playful hatred left his eyes and was replaced with animosity such as Draco had never known before. What did Potter know? He didn't know anything about Draco, although he thought he knew multitudes. He had petty discriminations and house grudges. The words Potter used were an adequate description of his Father, but they didn't apply to Draco, yet?  
  
Would he become his Father when he left Hogwarts? Would he become all those things that Potter had just described? No, Draco would never, he could never do anything that horrible. Rude remarks and school competitions were one thing, but hurting people and using Dark Magic was completely different. No one understood him, they couldn't see through his façade. They simply saw the shell, the wall that Draco threw up to protect himself. To protect himself from his own family.  
  
"He doesn't look so well Harry. Do you think he's sick?" His thoughts had ceased at the sound of the little girls voice. How long had he stood there with that blank look on his face. He saw looks of confusion on the two faces that stared at him now, but there was no hate. Distrust, puzzlement, caution yes, but not an ounce of what he had always worn.  
  
He shook his head violently in a vain attempt to clear his menacing thoughts. "Of course I'm not sick." He snapped. The animosity had come flooding back into his face, like someone had pulled a string. "Just trying to figure out how to get out of this predicament I'm in. Stuck with Scar head and little Miss Carrot top." His drawl came very naturally as he spoke these words.  
  
He smiled as Potter's scowl came back as well. He stepped in between Draco and Ginny, "It's not like we want to be here either, but if you'd have been listening, Bagman just said that the teams cannot be switched, for any reason." Draco flinched slightly, as if Potter had struck him with something sharp, but before he could find an adequate come back Bagman was speaking again.  
  
"Now that you've all been acquainted with your team members, you can all go home. Our first practice is Wednesday at five. Make sure you bring your brooms and have proper attire." Draco saw the many small groups of three bid each other farewell and head in the direction of the hearths.  
  
Potter pivoted on the balls of his feet and gave a final glare to Draco before he took Ginny's arm and steered her in the direction they had left her brother. "See you on Wednesday, Potter." Draco called out after the queer group, the most famous boy in the wizarding world and the poorest family Draco had ever heard of. He laughed, what did Potter see in that family? Drabby robes, red hair, a shambled house, absolutely no class. He sighed. A set of caring parents, sincere friends who would never tell his secrets, and a hospitable home. What didn't Potter see in the family Draco now wished he could go home with.  
  
He watched the three disappear up a chimney. Of course he would never give up his manor or his status just for a loving family, he wasn't completely mad. He walked towards the nearest hearth, he took his time as he wasn't in the greatest rush to get home. The supposed practice had only lasted an hour, he had thought he'd be away a little longer than that. He was one of the last ones to leave the pitch. He tossed a pinch of floo powder into the roaring fire and watched it turn an emerald green. He stepped in, ignorant to the flames licking at his robes, "Malfoy Manor." He spoke clearly and soon felt the normal sensation. The pitch blurred and was replaced by the inside of chimneys. He caught glimses of different residents as his journey wore on. Finally the walls began to slow and he recognized his neighbor's fireplace and then with a loud thud he landed in the living room of his house.  
  
He shivered as he stepped out from the warm fire that died as soon as he left it. The Manor always dropped a few degrees at night which forced Draco to wear a heavy cloak after sunset. His Mother was sitting on one of the far couches, her posture perfect even while she sat there reading in her own deserted living room. She wore a light green robe and looked quite comfortable in it.  
  
She didn't look up from the book she was reading at the arrival of Draco, she didn't even acknowledge his presence. She spoke as he was preparing to leave the room, "How was your Quidditch?" She asked in her usual cold tone, one that hinted she knew something that he didn't.  
  
He turned and faced the room again, she was still reading her book as she waited for his answer. "Well the absence of any Quidditch certainly didn't deprive the evening of a certain amount of excitement." There was spite in his tone, one that portrayed his indifference towards her, one that pushed the envelop of disrespect. She acted as though she didn't notice. Draco continued, taking a few steps back into the sparsely decorated him, "Somehow I ended up on the same team as Potter and that Weasley girl Father gave Riddle's diary to three years ago."  
  
Narcissa's eyes widened and she could not control the emotion that spread over her face. She let out a high, shrill laugh. It annoyed Draco as she let out a few more of these unnatural laughs. He narrowed his eyes, "I thought our name was suppose to prevent this type of thing from happening!?" His face was flush with anger.  
  
She let out a final laugh and set her book open on her lap, "You have to earn that privilege first. What have you ever done to prove you're a Malfoy?" She stared at him, contempt once again evident in her gaze. Draco's anger had not subsided and this comment, he thought, was uncalled for. He turned sharply and stormed out of the room.  
  
He heard her last comment as he rounded onto the staircase, "Silly boy." She needed to have the last word as bad as Professor Snape wanted to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts. He slapped the door to his room and locked it with the large brass lock. He lit a fire in his small fire place and shrugged off his Quidditch robes. He threw his Nimbus 2001 into the corner and pulled on a pair of his black silk sleeping pants. He stripped off his t-shirt and tossed into the clothes hamper that the house elves collected once a day.  
  
He sat down onto his floor poster and reached underneath it for his sketch pad. His fingers closed on the large bulky pad of parchment and a group of lead pencils tied together. He pushed himself back against the walls and closed the curtains around him. He lit the candelabra behind him with a prod of his wand and flipped through the pages until he found an empty one.  
  
He started drawing, fast rapid lines. He quickly finished the background, a thick, dark forest, a full moon hanging over head lighting the clearing. His lines became more controlled and he slowed his pace to allow for more control. The figure in his head began to take shape. He added details to his nearly finished sketch. When he was done he poked it once with his wand and the dragon came to life. A large flame shot from it's mouth and it stormed around the clearing once before it settled onto grass.  
  
Draco stared at it, it lay there motionless occasionally blowing a small smoke ring. His name meant dragon in Latin, so he had been told. He had no idea what his Father had been thinking when he named him that. Did his Father think that Draco was a fierce dragon? Perhaps it was again his Father aspiration that he become a warrior of sorts in the Dark Arts, in the army of Voldemort.  
  
He put the sketch pad back underneath his four poster. He had six or seven full ones underneath there now, and a few more under his four poster back at Hogwarts. He put out the candelabra and climbed comfortably underneath his sheets and entered into his dreams. Dreams of simple things: Quidditch, dragons, potions class.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco walked across the Quidditch field, Potter and the Weasley girl were leaning against the side of the pitch. They looked to be having an interesting conversation, the girl kept laughing, it was an unnatural laugh, she seemed almost.giddy? And Potter, Draco could only remember seeing his cheeks that red when a teacher had given him praise.  
  
"Why don't you and your little girlfriend get a room Potter. I'll just practice by myself then." He wore a wicked little smile, he could never torture Potter enough.  
  
Potter narrowed his eyes at Draco, "I bet you like to play with yourself." He smirked at this, sniggering at his own little joke, the girl held back another round of laughter.  
  
As Draco was about to respond to this when Bagman came over to their small group. He carried a half a dozen quaffles with him, "Ah, Harry Potter, ready for your first practice?" There was a certain twinkle in Bagman's eye, one of respect and pride. Draco saw in the eyes of everyone who looked at Potter. What had he ever done to deserve the such fame? He defeated the Dark Lord through nothing more than luck, everyone knew that now. It was because of his Mother's love, not because he was some kind of great wizard.  
  
"Yeah, we're ready to practice." Potter looked over at Draco as he said these words. Bagman smiled and threw a quaffle to them, "This is your half of the field then. You should decided who is going to fly center and to the left and right wings. Practice moving the quaffle between the three of you. Practice tossing the quaffle through single hoop at the end of the field." He nodded once before he moved off to the next group, "Good luck then."  
  
Draco and Potter watched Bagman walk away, each with the same look of distress and worry on their faces. Slowly they turned and stared at each other, a questioning look on both of their faces. Ginny stood in between them, she looked from one boy to the next.  
  
Draco narrowed his gaze, "Well what are we waiting for, we are here to practice after all." His mouth twisted, and his eyes glinted. Ginny swallowed a large lump in her throat.  
  
Potter nodded, "Alright Malfoy, let's get this over with." Harry mounted his broom and flew off. He bent over agilely and picked up the quaffle. He zig-zagged across the field towards the pitch. He dove once as if avoiding an invisible bludger. Pulled back on his broom hard and completed a 360 degree turn as if dodging an opponent that wasn't really there. He un- tucked the quaffle from his arm and threw it straight and strong for the goal. It sailed magnificently through without even touching the sides.  
  
With a sneer Draco mounted his own broom hastily and took off after Potter. Potter had picked up the quaffle again and was streaming towards the goal. Draco pressed his body up against his broomstick, which was year older than Potter's, and quickly set a path that crossed his teammate's He could hear the Weasley girls broom trying to keep up behind his, she was still practically at the sidelines.  
  
Draco was only a few broomstick lengths away from Potter, he pulled the broom as close as he could. It felt as if it were a part of himself, it melted into his chest and Draco had complete control. He flew up unseen next to Potter and stripped him of the quaffle. He sneered at the look of surprise on his face. But it quickly turned into anger as he too pulled his broom closer and tore after Draco.  
  
Potter swung himself around and lunged his shoulder into the body of Draco. Draco's was set off course temporarily but soon was heading for the goal again. Potter lunged again, with more force and more speed. Was he trying to knock the quaffle out of his grip or knock him off of his broom, Draco asked inside his head. Potter had a hand wrapped around the quaffle now, he was tugging at it, trying to free it from Draco's strong arm. The goal was only a few seconds away. Draco lashed out with his foot and struck Potter's broom. At the same time he pulled it upward, freeing the quaffle from the other boy's grip. Draco steadied his broom and flung the quaffle towards the towering gold hoop. Potter's shot had been better but Draco's accomplished the same purpose. It brushed the inside of the ring and soared out the other side.  
  
Potter flew down beneath quickly and retrieved the red ball. He made his way around to the center of the field and again began his run on the goal, and on Draco. This was quickly turning from a team practice to a one-on-one grudge match.  
  
Draco flew towards Potter, head on. Potter veered to the right missing Draco by inches. Draco swung his broom around and was close on Potter's tail. He hit a burst of speed and tried to cut Potter off before he reached the goal but Potter had anticipated ahead of him and dove quickly before rising up high above Draco and putting the quaffle easily through the hoop.  
  
Draco dropped down below the goal and picked up the quaffle. He was getting angry and was about to start his own little break away when he heard a shout from behind him. "This is suppose to be a practice, not some sort of manhood contest." It was Bagman and he had come up on his broom in between Potter and Draco, the Weasley girl was flying next to him.  
  
Draco cast a quick look at Potter, "Sorry Mr. Bagman, we were just playing a little one on one before we got started." Draco's mouth had formed into a twisted sort of smile. Potter was staring at him, his eyes were still full of contempt and anger. Anger at having to agree with him. His look switched quickly to Bagman,  
  
"Yes, we were playing for the position of center. The winner of the game would get to play the center chaser." Draco had to hand it to him, he thought, Potter was a fast thinker, and a brilliant liar as well.  
  
Bagman seemed to accept these two lies and nodded his head rather sheepishly. "Well, since it seems that Mr. Potter was ahead twenty to ten I think he has the position then." Draco's lip curled and he was about to protest, Potter had after all had the first try, but Bagman held up his hand. "It is really not that important who plays center. You should start to practice now, it's already been an hour."  
  
He took the qauffle from Draco. "Now let me see, you both play Seeker at Hogwarts, and you've never played at all?" He was looking at Ginny now and she shook her head rather embarrassed. "Well then, I think I'll stick around and show you three how to play, as a team."  
  
For the next hour, Bagman showed the three everything there was to know about being a Chaser, or so it seemed. He showed them what formations were most widely used to attack, what formations were used to defend, how to pass the quaffle in between them, how to take it away from their opponents. He showed them the correct way to carry the ball and shoot the ball, how to block shots and retrieve the ball from goals.  
  
At the end of the practice session Bagman had worn them out. Draco and Potter were even too tired to argue. "Well now that was a productive little practice wasn't it?" How could he look so cheerful all the time, Draco thought, wasn't he tired at all? Potter moaned in response to Bagman's question. "Right then, your first game is Sunday at eight O'clock. You're going to be playing team three of your group. Which reminds me, you all have to come up with a name for your team by next practice, Friday. You have to turn in the names at the end of the session so that jerseys can be made up for you for the game the next day." Instead of asking for a team name, by the looks on Draco and Potter's faces, someone would think he had just ask the two to donate a limb each for a dragon's dinner. They stared at him with shocked expressions. Then they looked at each other, wearing a look of disgust and spite at having at agree on a team name.  
  
"Why don't you each come up with something tomorrow and bring in it on Friday?" He nodded once courteously and then walked off to gather the rest of the quaffles from other groups. Ginny took Harry's hand and was pulling him towards a fireplace. It seemed she hadn't quite forgotten about the incident on the train and was trying to prevent another one. Harry glared at him, "Guess we'll meet back here on Friday then, Malfoy." There was a final look and the pair turned and walked away. Potter had his arm around the little red head and was carrying both their brooms, "See you later then, Potter. Hope you and your girlfriend have a nice warm bed to go to together." Draco's drawl ringing throughout the pitch. He turned on his own heels and marched in the opposite direction.  
  
This little situation he found himself in seemed to be getting worse and worse every day. Now he had to play left winger to Potter and they all had to decide on a team name. How much more ridiculous good this get?  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco walked through the cold house, it's eerie noises unheard. He changed out of his sweaty Quidditch robes and into his fresh black silk pajamas. There was a silver "D" embroidered on the left breast. He lit a fire quickly before climbing into his big four poster and falling into an uninterrupted, dreamless sleep. The morning was gray and dismal. Rain clouds floated overhead and threatened to let loose with a downpour. Draco tried to sleep through until the afternoon. If he couldn't spend time with Crabbe and Goyle, couldn't even enjoy Quidditch, perhaps he would be allowed to enjoy sleeping. He was just starting on what promised to be a fantastic morning dream when he was pulled back to reality by his Mother's voice. "Draco. Draco! Get up. Company will be here in ten minutes."  
  
Draco knew it would be no use to try and ignore her. If she had company that was important enough to show him off, there was no excuse he could use. If he had come down with a deadly virus and only had that day to live, his Mother would use him to get sympathy from whatever stupid dignitary or family friend was visiting.  
  
He shivered as he swung his legs out from underneath his black comforter. The fire had went out during the night and his room had turned just as cold as the rest of the house. He practically ran from his bed to the shower, starting the fire again as he whipped past. He turned the water up nearly as high as it would go, it still didn't seem hot enough though. He toweled off and swung his heavy bathrobe on. He laid out a plain black robe with matching trousers.  
  
The room had warmed up a little and a house elf had already come up and made his bed. Sometimes he got so mad at those little elves. Always doing something, never leaving him alone. Even if he couldn't see them he knew they were there, they were like germs. He ripped the sheets off his bed and threw them onto the floor. His anger flooded out, his anger at Potter, at his Mother, his Father, his whole situation. He stormed off out of his room, slamming the door, and went to greet whoever was intruding into his home today.  
  
He sped through the hallways knocking inattentive house elves to the floor. The pictures glared at him from their frames, questioning looks on their faces. "Who are you to ramp through the halls that we lived in hundred of years before your time." Draco scowled at his great-great cousin Raven.  
  
He flung open the door to the sitting room and stop dead in his tracks. There were two people sitting across from his mother. One had a long white beard, and wore deep purple robes, with half moon spectacles on his nose. The other wore straight back robes similar to Draco's but these were worn and seemed like work robes. He had jet black hair and a twisted scowl that Draco took as a smile.  
  
"Good afternoon Headmaster Dumbledore, Professor Snape." He inclined his head as he spoke each name, Draco was not one to bow. The Headmaster wore a large smile and acted pleased to see Draco. Why did people always pretend they enjoyed his company, didn't they know what his Father was?  
  
"Ah, young Mr. Malfoy. It's so nice to see you. Did you have a nice lie in? Oh, to have free summers again, I miss them so, don't you agree Severus?" Dumbledore looked at Draco's head of house, and the Hogwarts Potion Master. Snape most certainly did not look as if he agreed but he smiled and nodded his head just the same.  
  
"How are your studies coming along Draco?" He asked, changing the subject. In truth Draco hadn't even opened his books yet, he was much to busy entertaining.  
  
"They're coming along quite well, thank you Professor." It seemed to Draco that his teacher knew him all too well and hence knew that he was lying through his teeth, but he didn't press him further and try and embarrass him in front of his Mother and the Headmaster, as his Father most likely would have.  
  
It then struck Draco as odd that his Mother had invited these two particular people for tea. It was common knowledge in the Manor that Professor Snape had fled from Voldemort and joined forces with Dumbledore. He was no more welcome in their house as he was in Voldemort's circle of Death Eaters. As for Dumbledore, his Father considered him such a muggle lover that he was not fit to be Headmaster of Hogwarts. Why then should his Mother invite them for tea?  
  
His questions were soon answered by his Mother, her cold voice intoned her dislike for their guests, "Professor Snape and Headmaster Dumbledore just stopped by to see you actually, isn't that right?" She said Dumbledore's name as if it were a disease she didn't want to mention. She was obviously hurrying along the conversation to lessen their stay.  
  
Dumbledore's eyes flashed as if he had forgotten why he had come and was enjoying the tea and conversation. "Ah, yes our purpose in this visit. Perhaps I should let Severus tell you, Mr. Malfoy, he is after all your head of house."  
  
Severus looked as if he were becoming uncomfortable and just wanted to spit out whatever he was about to say and run. "Well it seems that there is an opening on the house Quidditch team for a captain, and we feel that you are the best choice for the position."  
  
Him, Quidditch captain? But there were so many other people on the team. He didn't know the first thing about being a captain, he hardly knew much about being Seeker. "Will I be Captain then for the next three years?" He wasn't sure if he wanted the position if he was just going to lose it next year and be made a fool of.  
  
"Yes, only in very rare and serious circumstances do we replace a captain." Replied Snape.  
  
Draco let out a small sigh and smiled, "Well then, I'm honored and accept." Severus and Dumbledore both looked happy that he had accepted.  
  
His Mother looked pleased, she let out a rare small at his rare accomplishment. "Your Father is going to be so proud when he hears about this."  
  
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow, "Oh and where is Lucious, I've been meaning to speak with him about the," He paused here and his eyes flashed around, looking for something to say, "To talk to him about the Hogwarts Board of Regents." He smiled and nodded once. God, Draco thought, his Headmaster could lie nearly as well as he could. Nearly!  
  
Narcissa smiled back very hospitably, "Oh well you know Lucious, he's always away on business." Her eyes took the same ride that Dumbledore's had, only she hid it a little better, "Yes, he's down in Tanzania actually for a little bit. They found an old burial and Lucious thinks that it might be an ancestor of the Malfoy family, and so of course he had to go and investigate." Her mouth twisted uncomfortably and formed a cautious smile. Snape and Dumbledore seemed to accept this and made to get up and leave.  
  
Narcissa stood up and ushered them out the door. "Well thank you for the tea, Mrs. Malfoy." Snape said as he took his cloak from the waiting house elf.  
  
Dumbledore took his as well, "Yes, it was superb Narcissa please thank the house elf who made it. I'm heading off to the Burrow now." Draco cocked his head slightly, "Oh, what brings you to those part of England?" He tried to sound casual but his spite cut through like a knife.  
  
Dumbledore lowered his head and looked at Draco over the top of his half moon glasses, "Actually, your teammate brings me out that way, Mr. Potter. He's to be the new Gryffindor Captain. Which brings up the summer Quidditch league, how is it going for you three? Have you thought up a good name yet?"  
  
There was a certain twinkle in the old man's eyes. Something that Draco didn't quite recognize. It bordered on comical, but was more knowing, almost guilty.  
  
Draco narrowed his eyes, "Well we've only had one real practice so far, and I'm sure that Potter and I will never agree on the same name. Bagman will most likely end up picking one for us." There was a tone of question in his voice, but his eyes stayed cold.  
  
Dumbledore smiled, it was a warm and sincere smile. "Well, just so long as the three of you are getting along. And perhaps I could suggest a name, one that I know Harry would agree on. The Knights of Hogwarts, and I think purple robes would be fitting." He smiled again, "Yes, I think Harry would go along with that, if you're willing to of course."  
  
He looked again coolly at Draco. He was waiting for an answer. Draco had to think for a moment, "The Knights of Hogwarts, that wasn't such a bad name, and he always looked good in purple, like royalty would. Potter certainly wasn't a Knight, but he could live with Knights."  
  
He looked up at Dumbledore, Snape was standing slightly behind him waiting as well, "Knights of Hogwarts will do fine I think Headmaster, so long as Potter agrees on it." He tried to show an encouraging smile but he knew it only came out as a snide one that showed he thought Potter would never agree on something that he had already agreed on.  
  
The Headmaster nodded once, thanked Narcissa again for the tea and walked out the door following Snape and bidding them both good day.  
  
Narcissa closed the door after waving once before they disapparated and breathed a very large sigh as if they had ruined her whole day. She straightened up, gave a crooked sort of half smile at Draco and left to go back to the living room. No doubt to resume whatever trivial task she'd been hard at work on before being interrupted.  
  
Draco watched his Mother leave and then walked slowly back up to his room. It was now raining outside and even though Draco had just been told some very excellent news, his mood shadowed the weather. He stripped off the robes he had on, found the pajamas from the night before and climbed back into the now freshly made four poster. He pulled the comforter up to his chin and relaxed his head onto his feather pillow. The fire had kept his room warm and he listened to the soft thunder outside as he drifted again into his dreams.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco flew out onto the field. He wore his purple Quidditch Robes with the knight on the back holding a sword. Draco flew around the pitch, the broom again part of his body. Potter and the Weasley girl looked awkward in their robes as they flew together slowly just feet above the ground. Draco pulled his broom around and whipped past them. He heard the girl cry out in surprise.  
  
He was just pulling his broom around again when their referee came out, followed by their opponents. They wore blue robes and seemed to have some kind of strange design on them. The three landed next to the other four and the referee explained his rules, "I want a clean game from all of you. There's to be no kicking, no holding on the jersey or broom, and no foul language. On my signal mount your brooms, when I blow my whistle the game will begin."  
  
The three waited tensely. The young wizard straddled his own broom, gripped the whistle between his teeth, and held the quaffle out as if it were about to explode. There was a shrill sound and Draco saw the quaffle fly. He kicked off the ground hard and rose quickly. The Quaffle had started it's spiraling descent when Draco picked it out of the air. He rolled once, evaded two opponents, one scrawny girl with pigtails and a very worn looking jersey, and a large fat little boy who's brown hair was plastered to his forehead. He sped towards the goal, he could hear the two behind him trying to take pursuit. Potter and the Weasley girl were on either flank but he ignored them. He encouraged his broom faster. The third opponent had beat him to the goal and was sling-shotting around the hoop. He was coming straight for him. He pulled hard to his right, the level headed fifth year followed. Draco pulled to his left, cutting across the entire field. The fifth year followed. He could hear Potter's calls for him to pass but tuned it out. He dove fast for the ground as he did when he was chasing a snitch. The boy tried to follow but his broom was no match for Draco's and he had to pull out.  
  
He gave a quick burst of speed as he pulled up on his broom. His angle towards the hoop was steep one. He pulled up harder, he was nearly flying at a 90 degree angle now. He was just passing the hoop when he tossed the quaffle threw for an easy score. He smiled coldly at his teammates as he flew back towards their end. They did not return his smile, they looked quite grim in fact for having just scored.  
  
The other team had retrieved the ball and was coming down the field in a "V" pattern. Bagman had shown them that one the other day. Draco flew straight for the lead player who had the ball. He was only feet away, the player hadn't changed course an inch. How stupid was this team, Draco thought? He swung his broom to a stop and tried to take the quaffle, but the level headed boy passed it quickly to the scrawny girl.  
  
She flew her broom just as fast as she could. Draco pressed hard to catch up. He was a broom's length away. He reached out and just touched the girl's fingers as he tried again for the ball. At his touch she whipped the quaffle out of reach and passed it way over to the other side of the field where the third teammate had been flying along side of her.  
  
The boy pushed his broom ahead, but it couldn't pick up anymore speed. Draco pulled his broom around and went to catch the third player. The boy was flying too close to the edge of the field, he would never be able to pull a shot off. Draco would trap him and force over the ball. He flew ahead and then cut back sharply. When the boy saw what he was doing he threw the ball hard towards the goal where the first boy sat waiting. He caught it and scored easily.  
  
Potter and Weasley were out of breath. They had tried to break up the formation, but when Draco had shot off first, their plan was gone.  
  
Potter picked up the ball as it hung in mid air and began his own run on the opponent's goal. The girl flew very close to him, within arms reach. They sped straight up the center and when the three opponents decided to close in together on the two of them they waited for them to come.  
  
Draco was furious, they were going to lose the ball. He flew quickly up the field, well away from the other five players. The two groups were five meters apart, "Hey Scar Head, over here!" Potter shot Draco a mean look and continued flying towards the other three players. "Potter, give me the ball!" He didn't even respond this time. Draco pulled his broom around and sped towards him. If he wouldn't give him the ball, he would just take it from him.  
  
Potter saw him coming and saw the others coming. He gave the ball to the redhead and with a burst of speed pummeled through the other group as she flew underneath them. The goal was left wide open and she put the ball through for another quick goal. Harry smiled over at him, the same cold smile Draco had worn five minutes before. This time it was Draco who did not smile back.  
  
The game began to take a turn for the worse after that for the Knights. The other team seemed to realize that Draco was not cooperating with Harry and Ginny. He ran his own plays, tried his own defense, they never passed the ball, although Draco had taken it from Harry once. The team was divided, and they used this. When Draco had the ball all three would converge on him and take the Quaffle from him as easily as if he had given it to them. When Harry and Ginny ran plays, they knew that they didn't need to watch Draco, he wasn't part of it. It was a three on two and both two were inexperienced chasers. When the other team attacked, Draco would always go after whichever player had the ball, so they passed quickly and often. Harry and Ginny put up a good defense with only two people but it wasn't strong enough and a lot of goals went threw that could have been easily prevented.  
  
By the time the game was nearly over, the Knights were trailing by a hundred points. The referee sound a loud note on his whistle and the Knights had played and lost their first game. Harry and Ginny drifted slowly to the ground. Draco chased after them angrily. He landed, a little harder than he would have liked, "What the hell was that Potter?" His drawl was very thick and his eyes had started to glare.  
  
Potter laughed, "Me? You're going to blame this, on me?" His tone had started out quite normal, but the anger was flowing by the end and he was now shouting. "This is all your fault Malfoy, you and your one man show. That team was a pushover, they shouldn't have scored once. But you, you had to have things your way. You had to have the ball, you're the only one who can score of course. You always went after the player with the ball. That first attack, the "V", Bagman showed us how to break up that play as well, remember? Each player takes an opponent and everyone attacks at once, remember? And I'm supposed to be center, remember? Don't go blaming this on me, or Ginny for that matter. You tried to play this game by yourself, and you lost by yourself. I'll see you at practice on Monday." And with that he took the red head's hand and stormed off leaving Draco with his mouth open.  
  
Draco couldn't move. His head was spinning. The pitch began to move. The ground began to shake. Draco stumbled backwards and caught himself on the wall.  
  
He felt weird. He tried to shake the feeling, the dizziness, but he couldn't. He was hurt at what Potter had said. Draco had simply wanted to win, he thought that he was playing as a team. Why did Potter always have to be so hard on him? Didn't he know that Draco was doing the best that he could with limited resources? Draco felt like a fool. He had been selfish during the game, he hadn't been a team player. How was he suppose to be on a team with Potter though? Neither one liked each other, and that was never going to change.  
  
The world seemed to do a flip, and Draco fell to the ground. Why did he care what Scar head thought about him? He didn't want to be friends with him, or the Weasleys. He simply wanted to play a little bit of Quidditch and escape his family. But still, why were his feelings affecting him this way?  
  
His mind turned again to Potter. Potter had done this to him. He hated the way Potter acted, so noble, so arrogant. Potter was the one who couldn't accept someone else's leadership. He hated how Potter was the one who always had to be the hero. Potter and that red head Weasley were the pacifists. Why should he be upset because they didn't like him taking charge, leading, being active? Draco only wanted to win, why should he care if Potter just wanted to play for the love of the game. Winning was everything and Draco hated anyone who said other wise. They were weak people who had lost so many times that they had to lie to themselves.  
  
He took a deep breath. The world had stopped spinning and Draco found that he could see straight again. He stood up, using his broom for support, and left the pitch to head home. He needed to rest, the headache hadn't quite subsided yet, and his walking was a little uneasy. The floo trip home made him feel a little sick.  
  
He walked up the long stairs and headed towards his room. He lit his fire as he walked into the room. Why did he always have to light his fire? The elves in his house did everything else for him, even when he didn't want them to. Why did they never light his fire? He changed into his pajamas and climbed into his soft bed. He tried to sleep but only ended up tossing and turning. He still felt sick.  
  
Finally he stopped trying to sleep and just lay still. His head on his feather pillow, the warmth of the fire on him, and the sound of the night outside was. He relaxed and let out a sigh. The memories of the evening's game left his mind and his thoughts were filled with images of the moon outside and the stars. Thinking about the sky, he fell asleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	3. The Youth Quidditch Association of Engla...

Chapter Two  
  
The Youth Quidditch League of England  
  
Part II  
  
Monday night came and Draco took the floo network to the pitch for practice. He wandered around the pitch trying to find his teammates but it seemed they hadn't arrived yet. Just like Potter to be late, he thought as he leaned up against the side of the pitch and waited.  
  
It was a few minutes to five when Potter and the Weasley girl finally showed up, but they weren't alone. Bagman was walking with them in Draco's direction. Bagman greeted Draco hospitably, "I saw your game on Saturday Mr. Malfoy, and I must say I expected better from the two best seekers at Hogwarts than what I saw. And I think you know what the problem is." He looked at Draco with raised eyebrows but wasn't expecting a response. "The three of you, one, two, three," he pointed as he went along, "Didn't play as a team. You didn't pass to each other, you didn't defend together, I really can't think of anything you did as a team besides wear the robes." There was a very disappointed look on Bagman's face and they all lowered their heads a little. What was he feeling sorry for, it was Potter who hadn't passed the ball? Draco's eyes darted around, trying to make sense of things. He hadn't passed either though and he'd made a complete fool of himself as he chased after each player with the ball. He had let a school rivalry come between him and winning. Between him and playing a game right. He didn't know which was more important, winning or his dislike of Potter.  
  
"Well no need to be so depressed, I'm here to fix the problem." Bagman smiled cheerfully as they all looked up from their thoughts. He did seem to have confidence in himself, Draco thought, maybe he could pull this off.  
  
Bagman started with a half an hour of warm ups. Flying up, flying down, veering left, veering right, looping this way and that. They followed him all around their end of the pitch mimicking whatever he did. The three of them flew one behind the other in alphabetical: order Draco, Ginny, and then Harry. Next Bagman lined them up in the "V" formation he had shown them the week before. Harry in the center with Draco on his right hand side and Ginny on his left. Bagman flew them around the pitch in a circle, flying behind them and calling names. "Pass to Ginny, Pass to Harry, Pass to Draco, Pass to Ginny, Pass to Draco, Pass to Harry." They must have went around the field a hundred times, and by the end of it each of their arms felt like it was going to fall off, but Bagman wasn't finished.  
  
He taught them a new play, one that required as much team work as Draco used playing for Slytherin. The play started in the "V" formation, Potter had the ball. Draco cut left and Potter handed him the quaffle, which Draco holds as tight to him as possible so that it seems Potter still has control of the ball. Potter swoops to his right, underneath Ginny, around the back of the formation and into Draco's spot. The three burst forward and dive underneath each other and cross paths, at which point Draco hands Potter the quaffle back. Bagman called this the English Star Burst. Weasley now speeds forward, Draco holds back, Potter passes the quaffle to him and he wings it up the field to Weasley who puts it through the hoop.  
  
The play could be run as many times as time allowed in one game, each time changing it just a little. Having Potter start by cutting left instead of Draco cutting right. Draco going up field after the star burst instead of Weasley.  
  
By the end of the practice the three of them had this play down like they had been born with it imprinted in their brains. They could run it any way possible, one of them would call two names. The first name was in reference to who started with the ball and cut left, or right. The second name was the person who shot forward after the star burst and scored the point.  
  
At the end Bagman gathered them all in a half circle on the ground, "You guys did a good job today, a complete 180. I'm going to help you out the next two days, show you a bunch of new plays that you'll pick right up now that the basics are laid. If Saturdays game goes well, then I'll leave you to it, and you can start practicing to be captains." He smiled briefly, "Well, best be off then. See you on Wednesday." He picked up the discarded quaffle and his broom and walked off towards another group.  
  
Draco collapsed against the wall. In all the years he'd been playing seeker for Slytherin he had never practiced that hard. His robes, which had been clean when he started the practice, were so soaked with sweat that it looked as if he'd jumped into a lake. "That practice was bloody hard."  
  
Potter cast him a glare, "Watch your language Malfoy." He nodded in Weasley's direction. How sweet, Draco thought, he's trying to protect the sensitive ears of his girlfriend.  
  
Draco just rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You mean that you thought that practice was easy?" He laughed, "Yeah right Potter, even you and your Gryffindor buddies don't practice that hard. The man's crazy."  
  
Potter was taken back, "I didn't say I thought the practice was easy, I said watch your mouth. And Bagman is not crazy, he's just hard working."  
  
Draco laughed again, "You mean working us hard. All he does is fly around and tell us which plays to run. The definition of a task master, Potter, is Mr. Bagman. I should have known though, his brother's nuts too."  
  
Draco suddenly realized something, he was having a conversation with Harry Potter, Scar Head. All the practicing and team work must have gotten to him, what was he thinking. This was the same boy that had cursed him unconscious on the train just weeks before.  
  
Potter seemed to realize what Draco was thinking as well. He closed his mouth and narrowed his eyes, a questioning look in them. They stood there, no words passing between them, only confused looks and silent questions with no answers. "Well, I, ah, I guess I'll see you on Wednesday, Malfoy." Potter's glare was not nearly as strong as before, and even his words were spoken awkwardly.  
  
"Goodbye Potter, see you and your girlfriend later." Draco tried to sound hateful, but his voice wasn't working properly. His drawl wasn't noticeable at all. Someone must have cast a spell at him while they were practicing. He cursed Bagman silently, if he hadn't been working them so hard he would have seen his attacker.  
  
The two groups spun around quickly and stormed off in opposite directions. Potter and Weasley in the same way that Bagman had left, and Draco towards a fireplace in the rear. They tried to storm as if they had just come face to face with the Anti-Christ, but neither one was very convincing. What had passed between him and Potter, Draco thought? It had seemed almost friendly. Whatever it was it was all because of that spell, and it must have been a powerful spell if could make him act friendly towards Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The week went by slowly for Draco. He slept as much as his Mother let him, being forced awake for company. When he wasn't sleeping or entertaining he sat in his room and read. He was intrigued by a muggle book he had found, Faust by Goethe. He could relate the entire story to his family, replacing Satan with Voldemort. In the background Draco played his favorite classical. His ears perked upon the beginning of a movement he enjoyed more than the rest and he could feel his hand moving with the notes. He enjoyed the music, it seemed to sooth him as only music and Quidditch could.  
  
Since it was Saturday morning, Narcissa had went out to be with her friends. They did this almost every Saturday. They went out to a different social club of England and socialized for most of the afternoon until it was time for dinner. For dinner they would go to a different person's house every weekend. Today they were going somewhere other than the Manor, and for this Draco was thankful.  
  
He woke up around noon and crawled out of bed. The elves had left the Daily Prophet on his desk, neat and crisp just as they did every morning. He pulled on his morning robe and sat down in his red leather arm chair to read the news. The small metal pieces which were embroidered into the chair were cold against his skin but he took no notice as he read the headline of the front page, ~~~  
  
Hundreds of Exiled Giants Spotted  
  
All across the countryside of the continent, hundreds of exiled giants from the nearby mountains have been seen fleeing from an unknown threat. Over the past week close to two hundred giants have been identified, almost all former and suspected supporters of You-Know-Who.  
  
Witnesses say the giants have seemed more agitated than usual and fear for their lives. The giants took refuge in the mountains after the disappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, who they were close allies with. Over the years many have tried to bring the exiled giants to justice but almost all of the giants have been killed in small skirmishes between aurors.  
  
The appearance of so many giants wanted for questioning brings up questions of its own. Who are the giant fleeing from? Has the Ministry took up the task of finally rounding up the last of the free giants or have the giants gained a new enemy in the mountains? When one witness, Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, approached and questioned one of the fleeing giants and ask what they were so scared of that they would risk being caught and prosecuted, the giant refused to answer. "He'll kill us all if we tell. He'll kill us all." The giant was heard screaming this as he continued on through the town after Mr. Hagrid posed the question we are all wondering.  
  
~~~  
  
The Article went on for some length about the history of the giants and why people had feared them and listed some of the more famous ones. Draco had read all this before or heard it from his Father and he threw the paper back onto his desk. What could all this mean, Draco thought? If the Ministry was trying to round them all up, they would have said something. Trust in the Minister had been falling now since the escape of Sirius Black two years ago. The Ministry would have made it public knowledge if they were trying to do something right. What did Draco care if all the giants were scared, that was over in France and was affecting the rest of Europe not England. He pushed himself out of the armchair and headed downstairs for some breakfast. He didn't bother to change, he liked his silk pajamas.  
  
The house was unnaturally quiet. His footsteps echoed in the hall as his slippers trod on the polished wood floors. There were no house elves in sight, they skirted around the edge of the halls avoiding their masters. What was going on, Draco thought?  
  
He entered into the kitchen and stopped dead. He was greeted by something of a disturbing site. His mother was pacing around in circles, throwing cold stares at the elves and occasionally kicking one that couldn't get out of her path quickly enough. Draco had never seen his Mother this upset over something before. And the fact that she was not out socializing made him very curious.  
  
He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen, "What is so troubling that it would make the woman who associates with Voldemort pace like she is trying to trod a circle into the marble?" He grinned a very devilish grin at his wit.  
  
His Mother was not impressed. She stopped pacing and gave him a stare that could kill. Her hatred for him and for his attempt at humor seemed to burn in her eyes like lightning. "It's none of your business what's bothering me, young man. And you are not eating breakfast like that. Go and change into some clothes." A look of extreme disgust had come across her face as she indicated Draco's pajamas, which she had given him only last Christmas. It wasn't like she had bought them, probably one of the servants had picked them out.  
  
Draco turned around and went to go and put on some robes. He hadn't found out what she was angry about, he had annoyed her, and he was now forced to change out of his comfortable attire. Some days it didn't pay to get out of bed, Draco thought. His room was warm and he decided that he would take a shower as well before he went back downstairs. He finished and was picking out a robe. He hated the fact that his Father detested all Muggle clothing. All Draco really wanted to wear was his favorite black pants and matching silk shirt, but because his Father considered them Muggle he would have to wait until he was back at Hogwarts.  
  
His fire had gone out while he was in the bathroom and so he lit it quickly before leaving for breakfast a second time. The hallways were just as cold as usual and they carried his Mother's voice up from the kitchen. She was speaking quickly to someone and she was obviously keeping her voice down. Draco slowed his pace and tried to walk as quietly as he could the rest of the way up the hall.  
  
He stopped at the very edge of the door and tried to tune his ears into what his Mother was saying. He couldn't make out the muffled words. He peered cautiously into the kitchen and saw her crouched down in front of the fire, but he couldn't see who she was talking to. It sounded as if she were wrapping it up, "Okay, be careful then. I'll be expecting them. Goodbye." With a pop, whoever had been in the fire was now gone and his Mother straightened up.  
  
"Who were you talking to Mother." Draco's cold voice cut through the air as he stepped into the kitchen. It took his Mother by surprise and she jumped. Draco grinned at having frightened her. "Who were you talking to?" He asked again in case she had forgotten the question. He spoke the words slowly and sternly. He tried to speak them as his Father would. He wanted to know what was going on, and he wanted to know now.  
  
Her look of shock quickly turned to annoyance and anger. "Have you been eavesdropping? I should beat you like your Father beat that stupid elf Dobby. No more questions this morning. Now go and eat breakfast in the dining room and then you're to stay in your room the rest of the day. I have important company coming over and I want you out of site."  
  
The look on her face was very cold, but there was a very small hint of question as well. As if she were asking to herself whether or not he had heard who she had been talking too, and whether or not he had recognized the person.  
  
Draco tried to pierce her thoughts, but the look hardened over and she pointed in the direction of the dining room. He now noticed that the kitchen had become bare of all elves. It must have been someone quite important if she had sent them away while she talked. But why hadn't she just used a more private fireplace?  
  
He sat down at the long oak table and a house elf quickly brought him out a tray full of breakfast foods. He took off the silver top and was thinking as he ate. Who was so important that his Mother didn't want to show him off to? If the Minister of Magic had shown up, his Mother would undoubtedly introduce him at least once. It must not be someone important, it must be someone secret. Maybe it was the same person she'd been talking to in the fire.  
  
He finished his breakfast, and followed his Mother's wishes by heading to his room. He closed the door softly and then he walked over to his armoire. "Wingardium Leviosa!" It levitated slightly above the floor and he directed it away from the wall several feet before setting it down gently. Hidden from view was a very fine crack in the wall. "Alohomora!" The crack in the wall revealed to be a small door and Draco quickly ducked his head and entered, shutting it softly behind him.  
  
"Lumos!" His wand lit up and showed that he was now in a dark passageway that ran between the walls. He had used these in his younger years to sneak around the house. He found it quite by accident. His Father had locked him in his room because he'd found Draco in his study looking through his books. He was so angry with his Father at locking him in that he screamed a one of the spells he'd read, "Alohomora!" He hadn't known what the spell was for and when he'd shouted it, his armoire had tumbled over and revealed the hidden doorway. Neither his Father nor his Mother knew that he had found the passage, although he was quite sure they were aware of it themselves.  
  
He followed the dark stone throughway. On either side of him were slits for watching rooms and small brass rings to pull open doors similar to the one in his own room. He had wandered these so often, and had tried every ring and slit that he knew where each one led. There was one for almost every room to the house. Every room of course that Draco knew about. There were secret chambers in Malfoy Manor, just as in the castle at Howarts. Draco found that his Mother was no longer in the kitchen or the dining room. The guests must have arrived already, Draco thought? He quickened his pace and headed in the direction of the sitting room.  
  
He slowed as he became closer and tried to make as little noise as possible, the walls were thick, but sounds echoed and Draco had nearly been caught several times due to carelessness. He found the slit he wanted and pressed his face against it. This slit looked out through a painting of a large Malfoy family crest that hung on the wall. The crest was transparent on one side and the slit was completely invisible unless the painting removed.  
  
He saw his Mother and two men he did not know standing in a tight group against the opposite wall. The men wore long black traveling cloaks that looked to have stains of some sort on them. Each one also had a sword strapped to his hip. Although Draco could see neither of their faces, he could tell by the white masks they held that they were Death Eaters. It was no wonder his Mother had wanted him to stay in his room. His Father desired more than anything for Draco to wear the same mask and mark he did, but he was not stupid enough to let his son hear privileged information before he had sworn his life to Voldemort.  
  
The three looked to be talking in hushed voices but try as Draco might he could not catch one sound coming from the adjacent room. He put his ear against the wall and tried to listen as hard as possible, but still he heard no sound. The conspirators must have taken precautions and set up wards before beginning their business.  
  
He stayed and watched for a long while, hoping at least to catch a glimse of one of the men's faces, but neither one moved the entire time. Finally it appeared that the conversation was coming to a close, all three nodded and then the two men bowed low to his Mother, replaced their masks, and disapparated. His Mother waved her wand and at once Draco became aware that he could hear the clock ticking next to him again. Draco watched his Mother leave the sitting room and then he headed back towards his own room. The feeling he had was one not of success or failure. A few of his questions had been answered, but many more had now been asked. Who were the two men? What part did his Mother play in all of this? She was definitely no Death Eater, she did not bear their mark. But perhaps all of his servants did not have the skull and snake tattoo plainly visible, thought Draco. If each one simple had one branded on their forearm the Ministry could then roll up the sleeves of all those they suspected. That had not been the case fifteen years ago, and it would most likely not be the case now. Could his Mother be a Death Eater? His Father was one, and he wanted Draco to become one, it made sense therefore that he would wish his wife to be loyal to the same master. Perhaps she was just the messenger though, she didn't seem the type that was capable of cold blooded murder.  
  
Draco pushed open the door that led to his room and replaced the armoire. He sat down in his arm chair to think. There was really nothing he could do either way, he would just have to wait and see what his Father had planned. Until then, Draco had to concentrate on his studies. He had still yet to open his books and start on his summer homework.  
  
He let out a long sigh. He would never become like his Father, he was no one's servant, he was his own master and would not be swayed to follow Voldemort. He wanted to play Quidditch, eat feasts, and be with friends. He wanted to be with friends he didn't have. It was then that he made a decision, he would find within Hogwarts a companion that school year. Someone he could trust with anything, someone he could laugh with, and cry with perhaps. Someone he could get into trouble with and stay up late at night talking to. Someone he could go to for guidance about his troubled family life.  
  
He pulled his gaze from the window. Yes, he thought, that would be his goal this coming year. And with that he got up out of his arm chair and began on his homework, choosing to do the hardest, History, and save Potions or later. He brought his head up from the parchment, perhaps Professor Snape knew of someone who might be all the things Draco wanted? He made a mental note to ask upon his return to Hogwarts. Until then, his studies, his carriage away from Malfoy Manor, awaited.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
It was finally Saturday and Draco felt that this week there was no way the Knights were going to lose. The team had practiced an extra hour by themselves on both Wednesday and Friday. Each one had played "captain" for twenty minutes, working on whatever they felt they needed. Draco thought they should work on shooting, Harry thought they should work on plays, and Ginny thought they needed more work passing.  
  
The conversation was light and they worked themselves tired. The whole time they tried not to think about the fact that they were suppose to hate each other, to be enemies not teammates. Their progress was amazing, if someone had seen their first game, they would not recognize the Knights as the same team. This only proved further that Draco and Harry were some of the best Quidditch players England had seen.  
  
Whenever Draco had been flying this summer, after the first week, he had felt a certain calm come over him. It was almost as if nothing else mattered, not his parents, not his name, not his house at Hogwarts, and not his rivalries. He was beginning to think that Potter was feeling the same way, he had been acting almost pleasant. He asked Draco questions about plays, and gave him helpful hints on techniques he had read about. Realizing this Draco realized something else, he hadn't called Potter scar head all week, and when he thought about Potter, there was no rage, no urge to kill him. Draco didn't ponder these thoughts for long. He knew that if he did, the old feelings would come rushing back, and he was enjoying these new sensations, the new calm.  
  
Draco shook his head hard, he didn't have time to think about all these things. He threw his purple robe over his head quickly and grabbed his broom from the corner. He had cleaned and trimmed it again last night, he wanted this game to go right. He took a pinch of floo powder from the stand on his desk and pitched it into his fire and left for the Quidditch field. The pitch came into view and Draco bolted from the hearth, he only had five minutes before the game was supposed to start. He found his field and saw that Potter and the Weasley girl were already in the air warming up.  
  
With a small leap he threw the broom into the air while at the same time mounting it. It shot out and towards his teammates. Potter had spotted him coming and stopped where he flew to wait. "Almost thought you weren't going to show."  
  
There was a half smile on his face, not an evil one, or a sarcastic one, just a smile, and Draco found that he returned this smile without hesitation. "You wish, Potter." The words flowed out naturally, there was neither spite nor a drawl. The referee came out then and the four now waited for the other team to show up. It was only a few minutes when three very scawny, very scared boys who looked to be only in third year came onto the field. Draco smiled and leaned a little closer to Potter, "It looks like they match our future games with our previous games."  
  
Harry got the jist of this but Ginny looked confused. "It means that since we lost the game by so much last week, they think our team is bad and they matched us up against s team who they thought would be more equal." Ginny seemed to understand what Harry was saying now, but there was a still a blank expression on her face. "What's the matter, Gin?"  
  
She looked from their opponents to the referee, there was a look of pity on her face. "Well, I feel a little bad for the other team that's all. They look scared enough, after today they'll probably never play Quidditch again."  
  
This was too much for Draco and Potter. Each cracked up laughing, full hearty laughs. "Well aren't we a little smug?" Draco had time to say. Potter smiled as he laughed, "Yes just because you're playing with the two best seekers at Hogwarts doesn't mean anything." He laughed more. They laughed so hard that they nearly lost their balance and fell off their brooms. Ginny shot them both a stern look, one to try and make them stop. "It's not funny, I'm being serious." But this only made the two laugh harder.  
  
It was finally the referee's voice that brought them back to where they were. "Are you two going to hang around up there all day laughing, or play Quidditch?" He didn't look too impress with the behavior. Draco and Harry choked off the last of their laughter and flew down to the waiting four.  
  
"I want a good clean game from both teams. The bludger is already up. Mount your brooms and when you hear my whistle you may leave the ground." The six mounted their brooms as the ref told them too and waited anxiously. He released the quaffle and it soared up, there was a shrill whistle and the game began. The six flew quickly into the air. Draco, Ginny and Harry wove in and out of each other path's, as Bagman had shown them, this was to confuse their opponents. Harry grabbed the quaffle and circled once across the line into his half to re-group. They formed the now familiar V pattern and charged into the offensive zone. They passed the ball quickly in between each other, further confusing the other team. The other team didn't quite know what to do and the Knights flew right past them. Draco carried the quaffle, Ginny was getting set up to speed past the hoop. Draco flung it fast for the spot Ginny was headed. She caught it and released it so fast it looked as if she hadn't touched it at all, just decided to change direction. The quaffle soared through the goal without a sound making the score ten to zero.  
  
The tallest of the three boys on the opposing team retrieved the quaffle. They grouped very tight together and tried to speed off as Draco and Harry had, but their brooms were too slow. While Ginny waited towards the side of the field, Draco and Harry circled the slow moving group. The ball was still with the center boy, Draco dove for him once, he dodged easily, and right into the dive of Harry. Harry snatched the quaffle and tossed it far across to Ginny, who zipped up the field for another easy score.  
  
The small boys now tried a different approach. They spread themselves out in a large V formation and flew towards the other end. They passed the quaffle hard amd high over head to one another. The tact lasted a little while, but finally after one toss Draco put on a burst of speed and intercepted in mid pass. He didn't wait for Harry or Ginny, but sped down the field and got his first goal of the game. The Horse Men, the three scrawny boys who resembled worms rather than horses, had hardly time to turn their brooms around before Draco scored.  
  
Ginny's prediction was coming true, and the Horse Men's spirits were falling. Their plays were becoming ridiculous and they were losing the quaffle faster and more often. Finally they resorted to simply defending their goal. The three young boys set up a wall in front of their one hoop. The hoop was quite large though and they didn't quite cover the whole space. The three moved back and forth following the ball, trying to protect the open part from a shot. This new tactic left the Knights to pass the quaffle rapidly between the three of them. They moved the ball faster than the Horse Men could move back and forth and many shots opened up. Who ever had the qauffle when an opening occurred took the shot. Most of the shots were good and they became goals. After a goal the Horse Men would pick up the ball and throw it as far as they could down field and wait for whoever retrieved it to come back and try to score again. After a while the Knights stopped trying so hard. The score was 170 to 0 and they none of them seemed to feel right to keep trying to score as vigorously. Even Draco seemed to become a little bored with the game. The three boys on the other team were anything but bored. They looked very scared actually and they became very jumpy when anyone took a shot.  
  
There were only a few minutes left in the game and the three were just sitting on their brooms waiting for the referee to signal the end. Draco had the quaffle and was tossing it from hand to hand while Ginny and Harry talked quietly to each other. Draco shook his head as he watched them whisper. The red head gave off a small high pitched giggle, she must have thought something Potter said was funny. It was disgusting him. He was just turning his head back to the hoop to take a shot when out of his eye he saw a glint of black flash in the direction the other two were sitting. He jerked his head around in time to see a bludger fly past him. It was heading straight for the red headed girl. "Weasley, look out!" The girls head popped up and looked in Draco's direction. They widened in shock as she saw the bludger. She wasn't going to have time to get out of the way. Draco dropped the quaffle and pressed his broom as tight as he could against his body. It sped off forward like a shot of lightning. The bludger was shooting forward. Draco pushed himself closer to the broom and came up along side the speeding ball. With a lurch to the side, Draco shouldered the bludger. It's course altered slightly and nicked the tail of Ginny's broom.  
  
The girl was flung forward and plummeted towards the ground. Draco pulled his broom around and shot after her. He could see that Potter had done the same thing but he didn't have the momentum that Draco had already. She was only a few feet from the ground when Draco took both hands off his broom and reached out to catch her. He felt her robes brush against his skin and the weight of her body in his arms. He put his feet out and bent his knees to comfort the shock of the ground rising to meet him. There was a jolt and Draco's descent ended. He swung off his broom and set the dazed girl on her feet. She swayed a little bit and Draco held onto her elbow to support her.  
  
A moment later Potter landed next to them. He put both hands onto her shoulders, "Ginny. Ginny are you okay?" There was fear on his face. Fear that Ginny was hurt. And his eyes were filled with worry.  
  
Ginny nodded her head slowly, still unsure of herself. Her mouth opened and closed trying to form words, "Malfoy,"  
  
she stammered, "Malfoy, he saved me." Harry took her into a big hug, tears flowed down her cheeks.  
  
The referee landed next to the three. "Is everyone alright here?" He looked from one face to another as they all nodded their heads. He let out a long sigh, "Well in that case the game is over. The final score is Knights 170, Horse Men 20. Have a good day."  
  
He picked up the fallen quaffle and walked off the field quickly. Draco could see the other team leaving as well. He couldn't believe they'd scored twice while he was chasing after a bludger and a falling girl. What had made him do either one of those things though, it wasn't his usual behavior? He didn't have to send that bludger off course and he didn't have to go chasing after the girl once she'd fallen. Ordinarily he would have left them both and just turned the other way, or laughed at her misfortune.  
  
He was staring at the ground and realized that the Weasley girl was walking towards the door the referee had just left. Very awkwardly too, he noted to himself. But Potter was still standing there in front of him. Draco looked at him with a quizzical look. They were both standing there in silence a foot apart.  
  
"Umm, Thanks Malfoy. Thanks for helping Ginny back there." The words came out slow and quiet, as if his mouth were dry. There was an unusual expression on his face as well. It was one Draco couldn't quite. It looked like gratitude, but Draco couldn't be sure as he didn't often see this look given to him.  
  
Draco didn't know what to say in response. He stood there for what seemed like an eternity thinking about what Potter had said and what he should say back. Finally he felt he had to say something, anything. He looked up, a confused look in his own eyes now, "You're Welcome." The words flowed from his lips, it made him feel good. He smiled and the dazed look left. "You're welcome Potter." He said it with more confidence, he said it as if he had never said it before, he rarely had.  
  
Potter smiled now as well. It was a full smile, a happy one, and one he had never expected to be giving Draco Malfoy. It quickly faded as he turned to leave but stopped, "See you at Monday's practice." There was confusion on his face again as he finally turned and left the pitch.  
  
Draco turned and walked in the opposite direction, towards the smaller, more private hearth in the back. He picked up his broom. There was a spring in his step. He felt better today than he had all summer, ever for that matter. He felt free, like he felt on his broom. He felt as if he could go anywhere and do anything and no one was going to stop him. He felt that if Voldemort were to show up now, Draco could stand up to fight him and win.  
  
He took a bit of floo powder and tossed it into the fire. "Malfoy Manor." As the flames engorged him, he knew that though it had started off looking grim, it was starting to look up. He might actually have some fun this summer.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 


	4. The Giant Mystery

Chapter Three  
  
The Giant Mystery  
  
Draco could not contain his good spirits. His summer had taken a sudden u turn and he was feeling good. His Mother was suspicious of something, she kept asking him questions and every time she did he would ask a question back, always the same one, "Who were you talking to the other day in the kitchen?" This always shut her up fast. She would purse her lips, squint her eyes, tilt her head to one side, scowl, and then storm off. Draco had been rather enjoying it lately, but he sensed that she was growing tired of his game and would soon begin to force details out of him.  
  
Draco's routine had change somewhat as well. He was now forced awake at eleven, he entertained for his Mother's friends until noon, at which time they ate and his Mother sent him out on an errand. Most of the times the errands were tedious and menial, something that any servant could have done. She sent him out for potion ingredients, for clothes, for parchment, she even sent him out for food once. Of course he knew why she was doing it, and he really didn't mind. He would rather be out of the Manor doing a meaningless job than sitting in her parlor putting on a cold smile for her guests.  
  
And so it was that he was in Diagon Alley today fetching a box of vanishing ink. His mother had given him ten galleons and told him not to come back for at least two hours. The vanishing ink was quite easy to find, Floorish and Blotts had a wide selection, and for only 5 galleons as well.  
  
He used an hour and three of the galleons to roam around Diagon Alley. He shrunk the crate of ink while no one was looking and tucked it into his pockets He had learned early on that in places where a lot of magic was used, the Ministry could never hope to distinguish who was suppose to be using magic and who wasn't.  
  
He purchased a pumpkin ice cream and ate in silence at the very rear of the shop. His face was cast in shadows as he slowly licked around the edge of the cone and watched the wizards passing by. A month had already gone by since school ended, letters had no doubt been delivered already to some of the first years. He could see parents dragging around very scared looking children. They looked so small, Draco could never remember himself being that small, or that helpless. No, he had never been that helpless, he had always been willing to stand up for himself and what he believed in. What he believed in, what did he believe in, Draco thought? And of course he was lying to himself if he said he had stood up for himself against everyone, there were two people he had never stood up to, his Father being one and his Mother being the other. He had never really stood up for what he believed in either, he had stood up for what his Father had told him to believe in, but he was now beginning to question there validity.  
  
He finished his ice cream cone and wandered back through the streets until he came to Gringott's Bank, his family had one of the biggest vaults there and because of that they allowed them to use their floo network. Draco preferred to use this one because it was more private and secluded. When he was the focus of everyone's attention he enjoyed the sensation, but when he didn't want to be noticed he hated people's wandering eyes. They stared at his blond hair and his eyes, and then they envied his lavish clothes. They knew he was a Malfoy and they hated him for that without even knowing him.  
  
The chimneys stopped spinning and came to a stop, he un-shrunk the crate of ink and carried it into the sitting room where he had left his Mother. He was one corner away when he stopped, something wasn't right. He set the ink down onto a side table and crept forward. He had only been gone an hour and a half, but he had nothing else to do when he came home. He door to the room was open a crack and Draco could hear voices coming from inside. He heard two voices, his Mother's and someone else's. They were trying to keep their voices low, but his Mother was too angry, "What do you mean you lost them?" She hissed in between clenched teeth. There was a paused before the man spoke and Draco knew he had swallowed a lump in his throat, his Mother was very intimidating when she was mad.  
  
"We-well you see M-madame Malfoy, we had them on the-the run and then-then something unexpected happened, Dumbledore showed up and he had a half blood with him. There was-was no way we c-could pursue." His mother was thinking over this information, "What do you mean, Dumbledore showed up?" This time Draco could hear the man swallow, "We were chasing them through the B-black Forest and we came out onto this t-town and sitting on the patio at the first house was D-dumbledore. We had n-no choice but to d-d-disapparte."  
  
There was a long pause now and it was very uncomfortable for Draco, he held his breath. Finally his Mother spoke, in a very quiet voice, "I will have to pass this on, there is nothing I can do for your situation." The man didn't seem to like this, but he didn't say anything and was going to leave.  
  
Which meant at any moment his Mother and possibly whoever this man was, were going to come waltzing through the door he was perched at and discover him. He turned hastily and tried to run silently back to where he had left the crate of ink, but his robe had caught on the edge of a side table and overturned a vase. It crashed to the ground and shattered. "What was that?!" He could hear two sets of feet running now in his direction. He summoned the crate and set it down lopsidedly onto the floor near the broken vase. He threw himself down next to it and began to scoop up the bits and pieces of what was once a family heirloom.  
  
Two shadows appeared over him, "What are you doing down there Draco Malfoy?" It was his Mother's voice, and is very cold, and very angry.  
  
He looked up from the floor and held up a few of the pieces, "The crate of ink you asked for was too heavy and I overturned the vase." He tried to sound innocent, which was very difficult for him considering he was never innocent of anything. His Mother seemed to be seriously pondering what he had just said, the other man seemed unconvinced though. He stared at him, he wore a similar cloak to the two men who had visited the other day, except this one seemed cleaner, and no mask was visible, but Draco was sure he was a Death Eater also.  
  
Finally his Mother came to a decision, "Well, you'll be punished for this later. For the moment clean up what you've broken and I don't want to see you out of your room until tomorrow." She turned so sharply around that her cloak snapped in the air and she stormed off towards the where she had just come from. The man with her cast Draco a final stare and then followed after her.  
  
When they were gone Draco breathed a long sigh of relief. He straightened up and waved his wand once to clear the remaining pieces away. He put the crate of ink onto the table where the vase had been and then Draco stormed off to his room. What the hell was going on in his house, he thought? Strangers were in his fireplace talking with his Mother, Death Eaters were in his sitting room chatting with his Mother, Death Eaters were in the living room cowering from his Mother. Every question Draco had involved his Mother and every answer he could think of involved his Father and the Master he served.  
  
He closed the door to his room and sat down at his desk. His Mother had forgotten to ask for her change, which he now deposited into a small velvet draw-string bag. Any money Draco had was money his parents had given him. He had saved about half of it and held close to a thousand galleons in a private vault. The goblins took out one galleon a month for fees and in exchange they had allowed him to use a different name for accounting purposes. Draco knew that if his parents were to find out he had his own vault they would pillage it the first time he stepped out of line, which was the only time he would ever need to make a withdrawal.  
  
He turned on his record player and set a Mozart piece on repeat. He relaxed into the chair and closed his eyes as he thought. What were his parents up to? His Father was obviously off on some kind of mission for Voldemort, this was probably the case for the other three Death Eaters as well. His Mother seemed to be mixed up in all this as well, she was relaying all these messages, but in between who? Was it his Father or was it Voldemort himself? He didn't think his Mother could be involved that much to be in direct communication with the Dark Lord, perhaps his Father, but not her. All this did not explain what all the activity was about though. From what the Death Eater had said today they were obviously chasing someone, but again who? Death Eaters who had betrayed them and escaped Azkaban, Ministry officials, old allies? The list of possibilities was endless. Draco would just have to wait and see, he wasn't going to rack his brain with so little information. He turned in his chair and picked up his potions homework and flipped through the pages. He had been saving this homework for a day like today when he had nothing to do and was hopelessly bored. He took a sheet of parchment out and began to write the essay Professor Snape had assigned on permanent potions and new studies on their reversals. The topic was quite interesting to Draco but there was definitely a lack of materials for the essay. He would stop by the book store later and pick up some more books on it.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco was entering the last two weeks of summer. It seemed to be flying past for Draco now that he was enjoying the time at the Quidditch pitch. His letter had been delivered from Hogwarts and he had asked his Mother if they could go to Diagon Alley. She claimed that she was too busy and that he should go without her. She had given him a handful of galleons, probably twice what he needed, and so he was now shopping in Diagon Alley, alone. He had already picked up all of his new books and supplies and was coming out of "Madame Malkin's Robes For All Occasion" when he spotted his teammate. His spirits rose, he hadn't seen him since Saturdays game, they had practice of course tonight since it was Monday, but Draco had been so bored lately running errands for his Mother. His demeanor quickly fell when he saw who Potter was walking with. On his right, holding his hand, was his girlfriend Ginny, who Draco didn't mind, but she still hated him, and then her older brother and bushy head Granger. The four seemed to be deep in conversation as they walked casually down the cobblestone street. The two Weasleys and Granger burst into laughter, obviously at a joke Potter had made. It was at that moment that Potter looked to his left and saw Draco standing in the doorway, a depressed look on his face leaning against the jamb, staring into space. He stopped where he stood and stared in return at his new teammate, lost in thought. Should he approach, or wave, or just turn his head and keep on walking?  
  
The Weasley boy standing next to him peered in the direction his best friend was starring. He spotted the white haired boy, who looked at the moment nothing like the one he knew from Hogwarts. He took a step in his rival's direction, hoping perhaps for a quick encounter, but was stopped by a strong arm across his chest, "You guys go on ahead Ron, I'll catch up with you at the Leaky Cauldron." There was no emotion in the voice that spoke and his eyes had not left Draco's face. "But Harry." Ron began to plead. Harry's head snapped to the left, "Ron, I'm old enough to make decisions on my own, now trust me."  
  
Before anyone could say anything else Harry left the group and walked in Draco's direction. The remaining three stood welded to the ground, stunned. Finally it was Ginny who bustled them off in the direction they had been heading before.  
  
Draco straightened up as Potter closed in, no feelings showed on his face. What was Potter doing, he thought to himself? The boy stopped a meter away, "We really killed those Queen's Guards, eh Malfoy?!" The hatred had nearly all faded from Harry's voice over the last few weeks. It had been replaced with that of a sort of care free attitude. Draco had showed Harry he was not just some worthless human being when he saved Ginny from the path of that bludger and had caught her before she was smeared across the ground. The two now worked quite well as a team, neither one trusted each other with anything larger than a broom but they didn't deal with anything large than that.  
  
Draco tried to show his usual sneer, but it came out more like a smile, "Yes, well anyone could lick a couple of little school girls from the third year, but only Harry Potter would brag about it." Both boys shared a quiet chuckle at this, in truth they enjoyed the bickering and couldn't imagine it any other way. They both knew they would never love each other, or stop arguing, and they accepted that fact.  
  
Harry looked up at the building that stood behind Draco, "We first met here, remember." He paused as his eyes searched over the building that hadn't changed. "That was five years ago now. Seems like it should be a long time, but it's sped by quite fast."  
  
Draco did not turn around to look at the building, he knew all of the buildings in Diagon Alley as well as he knew his own broom. It was hard for him to think back that long ago, not because he couldn't remember but because it hurt to remember. He felt like he had been let out of his cage for the first time this summer and was allowed to fly free. Remembering things from before July caused his head to spin and he continuously questioned himself why he had done the things he had. He was stronger than his Father, he could have stood up to him before and prevented so much pain.  
  
Draco realized Potter was staring at him, he must have zone out. "Hasn't went by fast enough for me." He bent his head down and stared at his feet. His Father had done so much to Potter, taking away his parents, matching him against Tom Riddle and the Chamber of Secrets, kidnapping him last year at the end of the Tri-Wizard tournament.  
  
Draco wasn't completely sinless either. He had taken every opportunity to tease and torment Potter and his friends. It was true they had deserved it most of the time, but some of them had been plain wrong, and Draco could see that now. Granger had the biggest teeth he had ever seen, but what difference did it make if she was a mudblood or not. Draco was proud that he was a pure-blooded wizard, and he wouldn't give it up for anything, but that didn't make everyone else animals. And the things he had said in July to Potter while they rode the train home, they should have put him in Azkaban.  
  
"I don't know how you can stand to look at me Potter, how you can stand to play Quidditch side by side with me?" He did not bring his face up as he said these words, he was ashamed and he didn't feel like looking at Potter. There was a long pause, an awkward gap, Draco half thought of turning and walking away before he could hear the other boys answer. It would probably be something simple, "I pretend you're someone else." Or, "It's only Quidditch, it doesn't mean we're best friends or something. Go sod off now before I blast you again!"  
  
He was about to turn when Potter spoke, breaking the silence, and answering Draco's question. "The truth is Malfoy, you're a lot different than I had thought you were, you're probably a lot different than even you think you are. Before this summer you were just some jerk at school who thought he owned the whole castle and tried to make everyone else worthless. But I think you're only like that because of your house, it's all just one big smoke screen and you know it. You're not your Father, and I know that. Why can't you just act normal?" Potter stopped now, his words had been sincere, and Draco heard a note of concern in his voice. Was it concern that he would snap at Potter for what he had said, or concern that the new Malfoy that he had come to know as a loyal teammate would not return with them on the train to Hogwarts?  
  
Another awkward silence was allowed to endure as Draco tried to take in everything that had been said. "You don't know half of what you think you do, Potter. If I were to act this way anywhere else my Father would kill me. If he knew we were having this conversation, or that I hadn't taken every chance to knock you off your broom while we practiced, I might not see daylight again until we went back to class, next year. Growing up, my Father would lock me in my room for months on end for things I said at his dinner parties. It wasn't until I learned to keep my mouth shut that he allowed me to attend them again. He made up illnesses for my absence from the time I was six until I was ten. If I were to do something at school, something hospitable, Crabbe or Goyle or one of my other house mates would owl my parents that very night, and before I knew what was going on I would be locked again in my room until the end of term." Draco stopped, he felt the anger begin to build up, and he didn't want to explode, not here. He looked at Potter, he was smiling. Draco didn't remember saying anything that could be considered amusing.  
  
"You and I aren't so different Malfoy. I grew up in a cupboard, underneath the stairs. My cousin got everything he wanted, the only thing they ever gave me were his old clothes. At school I couldn't do anything because people were scared of my cousin. If they talked to me, he would punch them and so no one ever talked to me. When my Aunt and Uncle had dinner parties, I was fed a few crackers before hand and sent to the cupboard. They told people that I was criminally insane, they didn't even tell me that I was a wizard. They tore up the letters Hogwarts sent, Hagrid had to knock down the door and drag me away from them. Even now when I go back for the summers they treat me like I'm some kind of leper. This year I went back for two weeks and during that time I replanted the entire garden, repainted the house, inside and out, and was fed only one meal a day. You may have grown up in the wizarding world and I in the muggle one, you with money, and me with none, but they were the same worlds really."  
  
Draco would never have imagined all the things Potter had just told him, not even in is wildest dreams or desires. He felt even worse now knowing that it was all his Father's fault that it was the way it was. But he felt a certain companionship with Potter now that he had never felt with anyone before. "I wouldn't stay with them. I would run away."  
  
"You don't run away from your family. And that is what those horrible people are to me, the only family I have." He smiled, it was rare that he smiled when speaking of his cousins, and he didn't know why he was doing it now. "Look, I'm gonna go and catch up with Ginny, and I know you don't want to come, so I'll just see you tonight."  
  
Draco nodded, "How about afterwards we go out to this restaurant I know and get a drink and a bite to eat? It will keep me away from my Mother for a little while longer."  
  
Potter smiled, "You're on Malfoy." He turned and walked away briskly. "See you at practice!" He called over his shoulder. Draco picked up the package of robes he had set down and began the long walk back to Gringott's to go home.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Practice went very well that night, they only had two left and then they had their final regular season game. They had won all of their games except for the first one and they were in good position to go to the playoff series. During the playoffs the games were held on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Each game was single elimination, if they lost one game then they were out of the playoffs. The junior cup game was held on Sunday at 6pm and was a two hour game instead of just one.  
  
It was nine O'clock, Draco was changing out of his practice robes and waiting for Potter. He was making sure Ginny got off home safely and he was putting on some fresh clothes as well. He saw him walking across the grass wearing a pair of loose pants and an un-buttoned shirt with a white v neck on underneath. "Okay, I'm ready to head off to this restaurant."  
  
Draco let out a small evil smile, "Well it's not really a restaurant, more like a bar or a pub." It was in fact a pub, as the name of the Black Lion Pub entailed, and it was one Draco knew served minors. "Come one, we can use the floo network. The pub's located right in between Diagon and Knockturn Alley, it's a great place, nice people."  
  
Harry didn't look as sure of himself as he normally did. In fact he was a bit nervous about going into a pub with Malfoy, he'd never really had a drink before. There was one occasion when he had crashed one of his Uncle's New Year's Eve parties and one of the guests had offered him a glass of champagne at midnight. He hadn't liked how the bubbles went up his nose though. He followed Malfoy back through the rear portion of the pitch to what looked like a very unused hearth. Malfoy took a pinch of floo powder for himself and then offered a bit to Harry. He cast it into the flames and stepped in, "The Black Lion Pub!" The world stopped spinning and he was joined a moment later by Potter. He looked around the dimly lit, yet jovial bar. There were people laughing and singing at the bar, others off at tables were talking loudly to one another, and still more were over at one side shooting wizards darts. These darts were directed with a prod from your wand and the board moved on occasion.  
  
Draco took a seat at an empty booth towards the rear of the table and a waitress was along a minute later to take their orders. She had long brown curly hair and was very pretty, she spoke with a French accent, "'Ow can I 'elp you, monsieurs?" There was something not quite right in the way she asked her question, there was a note of uncertainty in her voice.  
  
Draco raised his head and smiled at the young waitress, "Hello Miranda, how are you? I'd like a glass of Dragon's Blood please." The waitress nodded, the uncertainty leaving her slowly as Draco worked his charm.  
  
She looked now to Harry, who had no idea what kind of drinks there even were. "Um, I guess I'll have the same." She nodded courtly and left to get their drinks.  
  
Harry leaned over the table, keeping his eyes on Miranda, "Malfoy, what did I just order?" He was very anxious and his eyes were filled with worry.  
  
Draco let out a long laugh, "Don't worry Potter it's good. Two quarters dark rum, one quarter Bailey's, and one quarter Southern Comfort. You'll like it, trust me." He smiled again at Potter trying to reassure him. "You just have to blow out the flames, it's for show nothing else." The worry flooded back in Harry's face, and Draco laughed again.  
  
Miranda carried the drinks back on a tray and well away from her dress. The one she gave to Draco had a bright green flame licking at the rim of the glass and Harry's had the same except it was crimson. The liquid inside the two glasses truly did look like blood in this dim light. Draco put his hand over the glass quickly, smothering the flame and took a large sip. The liquor felt warm flowing down his throat and the soreness of practice began to leave him. The warm, fire like sensation emanated in his mouth and as he drew breath through his nose he could smell the fumes of his drink from the glass. His eyes fluttered shut momentarily as he savored the taste and his new calm.  
  
Harry was still staring at him as he opened his eyes and set his glass down onto the table. He hadn't touched his own glass yet and Draco cast his eyes from Potter to the untouched, still flaming glass. "Look Potter it's easy, you just clamp your hand real tight over the rim of the glass, this cuts off the supply of oxygen and smothers the flame, then take a small sip, it's pretty strong the first time you have it. Or you could do blow it out like my grandmother does." He watched as Potter, looking very scared and then more brave. He looked like he was trying to decide. Finally he took a deep and then clamped his hand onto the glass. The look of expectancy vanished from his face when the fire didn't burn him but instead extinguished. He raised the glass up to his lips and stopped for only an instant before he took a large sip. He swallowed and lowered the glass a little. Tears welled into his eyes, but he didn't make a sound. He let out a long breath and then brought the glass up again and finished it's contents.  
  
He set down the glass carefully and analyzed this new sensation. It warmed his body, and gave him new courage. The aroma flooding into his nose from the alcohol content were intoxicating and he desired more.  
  
Draco smiled, "Looks like you enjoyed that Potter, how about another round?" Draco tilted his head back and finished off the remaining liquid in his own glass to catch up with Harry. He touched his wand to both glasses and they refilled. The drinks sprang to life, ignited with fire again. Draco looked once more to Harry, "Ready?" Potter nodded. They both clamped their hands over their glasses and then brought them up and drained them. Draco's face twisted as the hot drink ran down his throat, he coughed once before setting down his glass.  
  
Harry was leaning back in his seat, his posture severely altered since first arriving. "Do you come here and drink often? This seems likes your kind of place."  
  
The question was ordinary enough but somehow the answer was difficult for Draco. "I came here with my Father once in second year, it was the same day that he fought your friend's Father, the red headed ones. He was meeting someone, an acquaintance he called him. The man was real shady looking guy, black cloak, blood shot eyes, hair that was sticking out at all angles. Well he was holding some kind of package for my Father, never got to see what it was, but after the exchange had been made the man offered my Father a drink. Miranda came by with three glasses of some kind of bright green alcohol, and she gave the third one to me. It burned going down that first time, but I liked it. Whenever my Father goes out of town I come here. I've stopped drinking Snake's Venom, the green drink, and found Dragon's Blood instead, much easier on the throat." Draco finished and stopped speaking. He stared over at the bar, his eyes unfocused on the wall and his thoughts consumed him. Why did he come here, was it because he liked the atmosphere, or because he liked doing things his Father wouldn't approve of, or did he like the alcohol and the way it made him feel?  
  
He shook his head once and tapped the two glasses again. He raised the glass and huffed out the flame moments before the contents flowed over his lips. He downed the glass and set it back onto the table. His head was beginning to spin a little, but he controlled the urge to sway back and forth.  
  
"So you're Father is out of town now then?" Harry asked sipping half of his own glass. The alcohol didn't seem to affect Harry the way it did Draco, his speech was still perfect and he sat completely still.  
  
Draco nodded his head once, "He's been away the whole summer. He left the day I got home from Hogwarts and I haven't seen him since. Do you think I'd be able to hang out with you, or even play Quidditch with you, if he were around?" He let out a soft, forced laugh, "He can't stand you, he's even worse than I was. No idea where he is either, but there's been some strange things in the papers recently."  
  
Harry nodded his head in agreement, he had been reading it every day since he first started staying with the Weasleys. "Seems like all the giants are scared to death of something. I saw that Hagrid was seen over there too, I have a feeling that he has something to do with all of this." Draco had no comment to this, in fact he hardly seemed to be listening. "I think you've had enough to drink, Malfoy."  
  
Draco's eyes re-focused, and he turned them on Harry. "I was listening, just thinking at the same time. I think, I think my Father is involved somehow too." His vision blurred as he sunk back into thought and his gaze turned down to the mahogany table they were sitting at. He noticed the fine wood grain, the marks of stains, and a small carving of a snake he had cut out Christmas Eve two years ago. He brought his wand up and refilled his glass. He had spent Christmas Eve here because his parents had gone out. He had no clue where they went when they left him, and he didn't care, but to leave your only son alone on Christmas Eve just didn't seem right for the worst of families. He was about to finish off his drink when he remembered it's flame. He blew it out quickly and poured the contents into his mouth.  
  
Potter's words interrupted his thoughts, "How can you use your wand here and not get official letters from the Ministry about the code of underage magic section, whatever?"  
  
He smiled and shook his head, "In places where a lot of magic is performed, like Diagon Alley or Hogwarts, or where there are wards up, like Gringott's or Malfoy Manor, the Ministry can't tell who's performing the magic being done. Therefor, they don't know if you're of age or not." He put his head back, remembering, "I found that out second year when I had come home for the spring break. My Father left me out in Knockturn Alley while he was in making some sort of deal and it started to snow, so I conjured up a fire. I expected an owl any second, but none came. You should try it."  
  
Harry looked uneasy, he was thinking about the official warning he had received from the Ministry the summer after his first year when Dobby had levitated his Aunt's pudding. "Go ahead, refill your glass." Harry took out his wand very casually. He looked around to make sure no one was watching before he touched it very softly to the edge of the glass before he pulled it away and stuffed it back into his pocket. He glass refilled quickly and a flame shot up. He smiled and blew out the flame, then quickly swallowed the drink whole.  
  
An hour later, and another five glasses of Dragon's Blood, Draco and Harry were still sitting in their booth. They were both quite drunk, and were laughing just as hard as the rest of the men in the pub now. Miranda kept glancing over in their direction with a questioning and concerned look. They burst into laughter each time as they tried to act as if nothing were wrong.  
  
"So after the task we were having our party up in the common room and Fred and George had mixed in some of their Canary Cremes with the rest of the desserts. Neville took one bite and turned into a giant Canary, feathers and all." Draco spit out the Dragon's Blood that he had been drinking and began to laugh. The picture of Neville as a Canary, still dress in his robes with a blank expression on his face was too much for him. He laughed until his side hurt and he nearly fell out of the booth. "Wow! Okay I think we've both had enough. When you start falling over, it's time to go home."  
  
Draco got up from the booth. He staggered once and nearly fell over. Harry's strong hand reached out quickly and took hold of Draco's elbow to steady him. "We're going to feel horrible tomorrow, I've heard about hangovers."  
  
Draco shook his head and muttered something that sounded very much like amateur. "Yes, well I've heard about hangovers as well, but I've never experienced one for more than a few seconds first thing in the morning." He took out a small vial the size of a small coin. It was made entirely of glass, it even had a glass stopper, and was filled with a sparkling blue liquid. He cast his wand over it and a second identical one appeared next to the original. "Take the tiniest sip of this as soon as you wake up, no matter if it's morning or not. It's an antidote I found for alcohol poisoning, which is technically what being drunk is. Here."  
  
He handed the duplicate vial to Harry. He took it slowly, not sure what exactly to make of this gift. He held it up to the light and watched it twinkle and shine. He spoke slowly, but there was no fault in his voice, "Thanks Draco." He shifted his eyes from the vial to the blond boy who stood in front of him. Harry realized that they were the same height and that there frames were quite similar. Had Harry been fed properly growing up, he could have worn most of Draco's clothes he guessed. Draco waved his hand quickly, "Don't worry about it. Consider that reparations, I should be the one thanking you, and apologizing." The cheerfulness the sentence had started with dropped, it was replaced with sincerity and regret. Harry smiled, "Well I better get out of here Mrs. Weasley may look like a nice lady, but she's not one to cross." He left a galleon on the table, that was the price for one refillable glass of Dragon's Blood. A galleon was considered a lot to most, but to Harry it had been well spent.  
  
Draco dropped two galleons and walked with Harry towards the hearth they had come in from. He nodded at Miranda as he passed the bar, she smiled warmly at him. Harry took a small pinch of floo powder from the pot on the mantle and pitched it into the flames. He turned around once before stepping in, "I guess I'll see you on Wednesday then. We should do this again before school starts Draco."  
  
Draco smiled, it was a smile he had never shared with anyone before. There was happiness in it, one he hadn't felt before. "See you later." He watched as Harry stepped into the flames and was swept away. He followed a moment later once the fire had turned back to it's original state. A second went by and he was home.  
  
The living room was dark and cold. A shiver ran through Draco as the fire vanished and he stepped onto the polished wood floor. The liquor warmed him as he took a deep breath of cold air. He walked silently through the halls to his room. There was no sign of his Mother, no doubt she had locked herself into the library already and was now deeply engrossed in one her books. Draco never had a chance to see what his Mother read but he knew from her secrecy that it was most likely dark.  
  
He closed his door behind him and lit his lamp and a fire quickly with two flicks of his wand. The room sprang to life and he now saw his Mother sitting in the red leather armchair he kept next to the desk. She sat motionless staring at him, she didn't speak. Draco glanced quickly at the clock on the top of his clock, it read 11:30, that wasn't too late for him to be out. "Where have you been?" She finally asked, getting up out of the chair. Her voice was chilled and monotonic, her eyes pierced the dimness and cut into him.  
  
He didn't respond for a moment, he moved towards his bed. She took a step closer to him and he stepped to the right, almost sitting on his bed. She moved to circle him, he took another step, this time in the direction of his desk. She was towering over him when he finally sunk down into his red leather chair, where his Mother had sat moments ago. "Perhaps I should ask you, why you were in my room?" He leaned back in his chair and put his feet in front of him, forcing his Mother to take a step backwards. He wore a wicked smile as he watched anger come running into his Mother's face.  
  
She glared at him and began to speak, her voice rose as she went, "This is our house, not yours, and I can sit in whatever room I want. Now answer my question!"  
  
Draco's smiled broadened, and he adjusted his posture to make himself more comfortable. "I went out after practice."  
  
It didn't look like this was the answer his Mother wanted. "I can well see that, I haven't been sitting here since nine O'clock because I thought you were in the kitchen. Now where did you go and with who. And don't just say a pub with someone I already know that I can spell the alcohol from here."  
  
"I was down at the Black Lion Pub, with, with" he paused, "With Harry Potter."  
  
His Mother's eyes opened nearly as big as tennis balls and she took a step backwards as she sucked in a breath. The shock didn't last long and a moment later her eyes were narrowed and her lips were pursed together as she hissed at Draco, "With who!?" Her voice rose again and the contentment finally left Draco's face, he felt a pang of fear creep into his chest.  
  
"I went out to get a bite to eat with Harry Potter, the person I was forced to play Quidditch with. You do remember that conversation?"  
  
Her eyes narrowed further. She disliked the manor in which his question was presented, she disliked even the insinuation that she would forget things. When she finally spoke, she spoke slow and clearly, with the sense of finality, "I forbid you to see that Potter boy for the rest of the summer vacation except when at the Quidditch Pitch!" She turned quickly after that and stormed out of his bedroom, slamming the door as she left.  
  
Draco let out a long sigh and slumped back into his chair. He had had the best time tonight with Potter that he had ever had with anyone, and it surprised him. He had hated, envied, detested, and generally despised Potter ever since he met him on the train to Hogwarts their first year. But now that he had come to know him a little better, he could see that they were quite similar. Neither one had had a proper childhood, neither one knew their parents, either by the fault of death or their own, neither one felt they quite fit in anywhere else except Hogwarts. And now his Mother was trying to make him stop being around him, well that wasn't going to happen.  
  
He slipped off the clothes he'd worn to the pub and put them in the hamper with his practice robes. He stood in front of his full length mirror and he admired his form. He adjusted the chain that hung around his neck, it was a silver chain with a medallion of a Celtic cross. It had Celtic writing written around the edges, he had tried to find out what the words had meant but the library didn't have any texts on that language. The chain had been a gift from someone, Draco had found it hung on his bedpost at Hogwarts his first night in the castle.  
  
He pulled on his silk pajama bottoms and climbed into bed, the sheets were cold against his skin. He pulled the comforter up to his chin and turned over onto his side. He lay there trying to get to sleep, and thinking. He was so confused lately, he didn't know if he actually wanted to be Harry's friend because he enjoyed his company and their time together, or because he was so desperate for a friend he would take anyone. After all, Draco had settled for Crabbe and Goyle his first year, but they had been acquaintance for a long time, seeing each other at their parents parties. At the buffet table normally, Draco thought smiling.  
  
He rolled onto his other side, trying to find a comfortable position. He adjusted the pillow under his head. He liked being around Potter, they had had a great time tonight, he wasn't a bad drinker either. They laughed together at innocent, un-cruel, jokes, they talked, they sympathized. Draco thought that Potter might be feeling the same way, he seemed to enjoy breaking the rules, as did Draco, and he certainly had enjoyed the Dragon's Blood at the pub. Yes, Draco wanted to hang out with Potter more, maybe even at school, and he had promised they would go back to the Black Lion at least once before school went back in. They could go again on Saturday night after their Quidditch game. If they won, they would be celebrating their first trip to the play-offs together, and if they lost they would be drinking their sorrows away.  
  
Draco took a deep breath as these thoughts drifted slowly through his mind. His eyes shuttered closed and he fell into a deep, undisturbed sleep.  
  
Down stairs Narcissa was sitting in her husband's study. She was staring into the Pensieve that Lucious had shown her how to use while he was away. She saw faded and unclear images mixing together. She saw blurred images of the Quidditch Pitch, of a big game between the Knights of Hogwarts and the Chesterfield Cannons. She saw the Potter boy and her son drinking together and laughing. She struggled to control a scream, her son and that menacing boy-who-lived, it was disgusting. She pitched the book her hand had been resting on violently against the wall.  
  
Something had to be done.  
  
~~~~~ 


	5. The Long Ride to Hogwarts

Chapter Four  
  
The Long Ride to Hogwarts  
  
"Your mom was pretty upset it sounds." Harry said. It was Wednesday night and he and Draco were leaning against the walls of the Quidditch Pitch waiting for Bagman to come by with their quaffle.  
  
"Yeah she was pissed, not because I was drinking, but because I was drinking with you." He shook his head. "I forbid you to see that Potter boy for the rest of summer!" He squinted his eyes and squeaked in a high voice, imitating his Mother.  
  
Harry laughed, "Mrs. Weasley was quite worried too, as well as Ron and Percy and Fred and George and Hermione and Arthur, Ginny knew where I had went I just told her not to tell anyone. I arrived in the living room to seven pairs of staring, cold eyes. 'Where have you been? We've all been worried sick.'" Ginny giggled from a few feet away at his mimicking of her mother. "She was pretty mad when I stepped out of the fireplace and she smelled all the alcohol, they all leaned back in their seats out of shock. Really it was quite funny."  
  
It was Draco's turn to shake his head this time, "I've corrupted the great Harry Potter. Bet you got quite a lecture from Granger afterwards as well." He ruffed his hair once and stuck his teeth out of his mouth, "Harry, you shouldn't be drinking, you're not old enough yet. And hanging around with Draco Malfoy, what are you thinking Harry, he's a dangerous boy." He couldn't contain himself anymore, he leaned his hand against the wall and began to laugh unctrollably. "What did they say when you told them who you were with?" He asked straightening up.  
  
Harry cleared his voice and stood a little straighter, fidgeting, "Well I didn't tell them actually. I told Ron and Hermione later on up in Ron's room, but them and Ginny are the only ones who know." He had been staring off at the entrance way but tore his eyes away and looked down into the grass. "You know how the Weasleys feel about your family, and I'm a guest there I didn't want to upset them so that I wouldn't be invited back." He stopped talking, he could feel Draco's stare without seeing it.  
  
Neither boy spoke, the silence endured as if someone had died. Draco was trying to contain his anger. He had told his Mother truthfully who he been with, and it wasn't like his family was crazy about Potter. They most certainly hated him worse than the Weasleys hated the Malfoys. Maybe Draco had been wrong about Potter, maybe he was what he had always thought he had been, just another spineless git.  
  
Harry didn't feel much better about the whole situation. He wouldn't want Draco to lie about their friendship, or whatever it was they were, teammates, and yet he had gone and done exactly that. He felt disgusted with himself.  
  
Finally it was Bagman who broke the relentless silence, "Hi guys, why the long faces?" Neither one spoke, he looked from one to the other and then shrugged, "Well whatever it is, this news might cheer you up. Saturday you were slated to play the Serpents for your last game, they hadn't lost yet, but they're center came down with Translyvanian Flu and won't be able to play. So instead you'll be going up against the Chesterfield Cannons, they've only won half of their games. Should be easy for you to make it into the playoffs now."  
  
Harry's face fell even more. The Chesterfield Cannons were Ron's team. This was going to be a problem. Ginny seemed to realize this as well. He tried to force a smile for Bagman, but he didn't think it was convincing.  
  
Ginny took the quaffle, "Let's start practice." She straddled her broom and took off into the air. Harry nodded to Bagman and took off after her. Draco was quick to follow and a moment later they were running through their regular plays. There was no emotion as they flew today, they were simply putting one foot in front of another.  
  
They called it quits early at eight O'clock, they still had one more practice before their last game on Saturday. No one said anything as they silently walked in different directions. Draco, his head down, towards the back, the anger still in his eyes. Harry, holding Ginny's hand, the remorse and worry still in his eyes. And Ginny, with Harry, not wanting to say anything as she wasn't feeling all that well what with the news of Saturdays game.  
  
Draco silently walked up the steps and to his room. He took a long hot shower, trying to relieve his tension. The steam refreshed him and he felt invigorated. He slowly toweled himself off and walked in the frigid air of his room. He lit a small fire quickly and pulled on his pajamas and climbed into his four poster. His anger at Potter slowly drifted into the back of his mind as he fell into a deep slumber.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco woke in the middle of the night. His fire had gone out and he was curled into a tight ball but that's not what had shattered his dreams. He could here mild crashes coming from the floor beneath him. He tried to think about what room lay under his and realized that it must be his Father's study.  
  
He pulled on a robe and opened the door behind his armoire. He crept through the passage ways as quietly as he could, he felt the downward slope as he went from one level to another. He stopped suddenly as he came to the opening that looked in on the study. He held his breath as he slowly moved back the gate and pressed his face against the hole. The scene that met his gaze was very strange indeed. His Mother went from drawer to drawer, cabinet to cabinet tearing through everything on the shelves. "I can't believe he would forget something so important." She muttered to herself as she flung an empty trunk across the room. It knocked the chair behind his desk over and the rug went askew, his Mother's eyes lit up. She ripped the rug back and pulled with quite a lot of effort at the ring that was in the floor. The small trapdoor opened and she quickly found was she was looking for and pulled it out.  
  
It was some sort of white cloak, the colors of the spectrum shimmered in it as his Mother lifted it up into the dim light to admire it. As she ran her hand over the coarse looking material Draco realized what it was. It was a very rare and expensive cloak made entirely of Unicorn hide. They provided protection to the person who wore it from many spells, curses, and incantations. The inside was no doubt stained with the blood of a Dragon to enhance it's strength.  
  
His Mother waved her wand once and the mess began to restore itself to proper order. She tucked the cloak underneath her arm and left the room muttering once again, "He better be grateful, this may just well save his life." The door closed and the light extinguished.  
  
Draco leaned back against the stone masonry of the tunnels, the chill crept through his robe and he pulled it tighter around himself. His Father now had the family sword and shield as well as a protective cloak, he thought, was he going to war or battle? Draco ran his fingers through his fine blond hair as he thought on this. It was too late and he was too tired to think very clearly and he eventually made his way back to his bedroom and drifted back into a gentle sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Thursday came and went quickly. His Mother had not roused him all day and he slept peacefully into late afternoon. Friday morning he awoke early to more strange noises like those of two nights ago. He could hear servants rushing past his door, and moving things loudly in rooms far away. He pulled the covers back and swung his feet out over the edge. He stood up and immediately the Daily Prophet sitting on the desk caught his eye. He sat down into his leather chair and began to read the front page article,  
  
~~~~~  
  
Dozens of Giants Found Murdered outside Marseille Late Thursday night the bodies of 15 giants were found near the mouth of a cavern by a group of muggle hikers. The hikers reported the incident to the  
local law enforcement who in turn tipped off The Sun, thought to be a  
muggle tabloid this paper is actually owned and operated by the  
Unspeakables division of the British Ministry of Magic. A department spokesman has confirmed that these giants were in fact the same ones seen fleeing an unknown danger only weeks before. Officials refused to comment about any suspects they had or about the identities of the slain giants.  
  
The bodies were said to be found strewn, and in no distinction pattern, some appear to have tried to flee once more. The cause of death has not yet  
been determined but the Unforgivable curse is assumed at this point. Speculation is that there were numerous attackers and that they surprised the giants while resting. The exact number is not known but an unofficial ministry source has been quoted, "During our attempts to capture the giants back ten years ago, we needed ten Ministry Wizards per every one giant."  
Given this logic, it stands to reason that this band of opposition was composed of at least 150 highly trained wizards. Out of this group it seems that either none were wounded or that any wounded were brought away with the group. Early indications show no signs of any human blood or flesh and there have been no clothing fragments found to suggest any clues to who may  
have attacked these giants.  
  
~~~~~  
  
In Other news Viktor Krum did not play against The French National team in  
Paris due to illness last night. When asked to comment....  
  
~~~~~  
  
The article continued into other pages in the paper, most of the information they listed were things Draco had read in the last article. He set the paper down onto his desk and sat back in his chair, his eyes unfocused on the ceiling. What did all of this mean, he thought? He knew that in the past the giants had been allied with Voldemort, if they had refused to join him this time, if they had refused an alliance with him, would Voldemort allow that? Would he be so furious as to hunt and kill all those who would not become his servants once more? Did he have the man power that the paper had insisted was needed to kill as little as fifteen of these giants? These were all questions that Draco had no answer to, but he could guess, and he guessed that these Giants did not wish to join Voldemort again and he was taking his revenge.  
  
He got up out of the chair and stripped off his silk pajamas, he shivered as the cold air hit his skin. He turned on the hot water and showered. He dressed in casual clothes and then descended the steps to investigate the source of the noise that had woken him.  
  
What he found startled him, it was near complete chaos. Servants ran this way and that, carrying a large variety of different items, food, paper, bandages. All of the servants carrying items were moving in the direction of the sitting room and so naturally that was the path that Draco took. He was almost knocked over a few times by rushing elves as he took each step cautiously down the hall. He finally came to the door. There was a silent queue outside of it and the door was shut. Draco tried the handle but it was locked. There was rushing and loud noises coming from behind it. He tried the handle furiously, "Madame Malfoy has commanded that she shall not be disturbed," spoke a small elf at the front of the line. "Those sent on errands will remain outside until called upon and relieved of their parcels." Draco scowled and pounded his fist now upon the door with full force, the elves cowered in fear of punishment. There came silence from behind the locked door and Draco ceased knocking.  
  
He heard the lock click and the heavy door was opened a sliver to reveal his Mother's face, "What is it that you want?" Her voice sounded annoyed and ridiculed Draco.  
  
"I want to know what the hell is going on here!" There was anger in his words, but anger at what, even Draco didn't know. He supposed he was angry with the secrecy in his own home.  
  
"What's going on here is none of you business, young man. Now, you will not disturb us again. Go into Diagon Alley for the rest of the day and do not return to the Manor until half past four. You are to leave for your Quidditch practice by a quarter to five and no later. Do you understand me?!" She didn't wait for an answer, just slammed the door.  
  
Draco was left standing there, dumb struck and speechless. He turned after a moments pause and headed back towards his room. He had a puzzled expression as he walked and his gate was slow and unconcerned. He closed the door behind him as he entered his room and made sure that it was locked securely and then he sat down on his bed. It was no accident that yesterday a group of giants had been slaughtered and today the Manor was in complete upheaval. He put his head in between his hands and gently massaged his face. His Father was killing Gaints, his Mother was passing supplies and information to Death Eaters, and Draco did nothing. But what could he do, he couldn't go against his Father, not so openly.  
  
He needed to clear his head, he needed to think. He picked up the change pouch from his desk and prodded the fire with his wand. Quickly he threw in some floo powder, "Gringott's Bank!" The world spun faster and faster, Draco wasn't paying a lot of attention and his elbows banged harshly against the sides, it almost sent him into a spiral. He came to a very sudden, and violent stop, and was thrown to the floor. He jumped up off the marble and brushed himself off quickly, hoping that no one had seen his arrival.  
  
He took the key to his vault out of the pouch with his coins and approached one of the goblins. "Excuse me, I'd like to deposit some coins into my vault if I could." The goblin looked him over once and then showed him to one of the doors that led to the tunnels.  
  
There were three types of vaults in Gringott's, each with a different price. The most expensive were keyless vaults, they cost roughly 500 galleons a year and but had unlimited space and maximum security. The vaults underneath those were vaults that measure 5 metres squared and used a bewitched key that could not be duplicated or used for any other vault. These vaults had a one time fee of 250 galleons and were normally kept in family lineage. The third and cheapest vaults were no more than four or five stories underground. The measured one cubic metre and were stacked five on top of each other. These had one sole key and again there was a one time fee for these of 50 galleons. This was the sort that Draco had, and it was nearly full. He had resolved to purchase the next grade vault upon graduation.  
  
The goblin lead him to an old fashioned elevator and set the lever to level six. Draco shut the wire metal door and the elevator began to move silently down the shaft. It stopped with a jar and Draco opened the gate and followed the goblin down the very familiar, very old hallway. Many of the bricks that lined the wall had been chipped and come out of their places and the granite tiled floor was uneven. Draco stopped at his vault, the top one in the corner, vault 6613. He opened it and took out his change pouch, he separated half of the coins and deposited these into the vault, leaving the rest for pocket money during term. He shut the large brass door, it made no sound as it locked once again, and Draco followed the Goblin back down the hallway to the elevator.  
  
Out in the sunshine, Draco began to wander in between the small shops. Parents were rushing in every direction with their young children, shopping for last minute items. Draco winced as the sun shone into his eyes. He took out a pair of black tinted sunglasses and put them on. The lenses were small and round, they perfectly covered his eyes, and you could not see anything of his pupils through them.  
  
He walked soberly through the crowded streets, the little amount of coins he had, jingled in his pockets. He walked past the small, dark entrance way to Knockturn Alley and was not surprised to see that it was empty of all patrons, even the regulars. Draco reasoned that anyone who normally shopped in it's stores were probably with his Father or off cowering in fear of him.  
  
Draco wandered into a small book shop and browsed through the long, narrow aisles. A thin book jumped out at him, crammed between two other books. He tilted his head and tried to read the title off the spine. It was no use, he pried the book off of the shelf and opened it to the first page. "The Rarest of all Beverages." It was book on potions, but he had never heard any of his professors talk about this one before. He leafed through it quickly before deciding to buy it. He paid two galleons and left.  
  
He walked quickly around the block and found a deserted looking pub. He took a booth at the back and ordered a cold pumpkin juice and then set to reading. He soon became entralled by the simplest of details and quickly forgot all of his previous worries.  
  
The time slipped by as he read and Draco was shocked to find it was already four thirty. He quickly paid for his drink and headed towards Gringott's, he hoped that they hadn't closed early for the weekend. He found the doors unlocked and pushed his way in through the nearest one and in the direction of the hearths. He ignored the rude and questioning looks from the goblins and finally entered the hearth, "Malfoy Manor!"  
  
He sprinted up the steps to his room. Pitching his new book onto his bed he changed into his robes. He grabbed his broom and lit his own fire. His room dissolved and was replaced by lush green grass and plenty of children. He glanced down at his watch, five minutes to spare he found, and let a smile form upon his face. He walked casually to the pitch they used and found that Harry and the young Weasley girl had already arrived.  
  
With a prod from his girlfriend, Harry raised his head and looked in Draco's direction. He pushed himself off from against the wall and began to walk across the field to meet Draco halfway, and out of earshot from Ginny. Draco stopped a few feet from Harry. His gaze was full of spite still, the memories flooded back into his mind.  
  
Harry took a deep breath, "Listen Draco, I'm really sorry about the other day. I know that if you did, what I did, I would hate you for it. And," Draco cut him off with a very sharp wave of his hand.  
  
"Potter, stop making an ass out of yourself, I don't want an ass for a teammate." Draco said nothing more, but his look had softened and taken on the look he'd worn on Saturdays drinking expedition. "Did you see the front page of the Daily Prophet today?" His question was sincere, but Draco didn't portray his suspicion of his parents.  
  
They began to walk in Ginny's direction again and Harry nodded his head, "Yeah, I was kind of worried actually because Hagrid was suppose to be over there on some kind of diplomatic mission with the Giants."  
  
Draco's eyes widened, "What do you mean, Hagrid was trying to convince the Giants to side with Dumbledore?" Again Harry nodded his head, Draco's eyes brightened with recognition, "That would explain a lot." He stopped Harry with an outstretched arm, "Listen, if what you're saying is true, and Hagrid has made an alliance with the Giants, then that would mean that it's Voldemort that's killing them because they've sided with the enemy. If they're not smart, and I don't think they are, they may all end up dead before they're any use to either side." Harry didn't seem to like what Draco was telling him. He also hoped that it wasn't a mistake leading him on about Hagrid and the alliance. "Draco, is you're Father involved in this somehow?" His voice was very low, it was neither judgmental nor violent, it was simply a question.  
  
Draco didn't answer, he stared into the grass, "I don't know." Harry searched his face for signs of a lie, and when he could find none he nodded. "Do you think we should do anything? Owl Dumbledore, owl Hagrid, owl Fudge." Draco was about to put in his own suggestion, but Harry stopped him, "I know who you're going to suggest and it's no use, Snape's off somewhere doing something for Dumbledore just like Hagrid and the Weasleys." Draco looked defeated and they began to walk again in Ginny's direction.  
  
"What were the Weasleys doing?" Draco asked as they walked? Harry shrugged his shoulders, and from his expression, Draco gathered that he really didn't have any idea.  
  
They practiced that night harder than they had ever practiced before. For the first hour and a half they reviewed ever play that they had used during the season. From then until nine O'clock they learned three new ones that Harry had read about in Quidditch Through the Ages: A Captain's Guide, it had been a birthday gift from Ginny and some of the plays were quite complicated. By the end of the three hour session, each one was severely sore, tired, and completely ready for Saturday's final game.  
  
"Draco!" Harry called out as he began to walk towards the rear once Bagman had picked up the Quaffle. Draco turned, "Tomorrow's game is against Ron's team, the Chesterfield Cannons, but Ginny and I have talked about it, and we're not going to let that affect how we play."  
  
Draco smiled as if he had information they didn't, "I already knew about the Cannons, and I never doubted you." He turned quickly and left.  
  
At once when Draco arrived at the Manor he showered and fell into a deep sleep. He dreamt bizarre dreams about potions that transformed a person into a Giant. He dreamt of drinking the potion and being mistaken by his own Father and killed in front of a cave. He dreamt of an evil, red eyed man, hidden away, deep in the forest of Russia. The man commanded all of his soldiers from a lonely stone house there, and was visited very frequently by Lucious Malfoy.  
  
He was woken by the sunlight streaming in onto his face. He had neglected to pull the curtain around his four poster in his haste to sleep the night before. He looked over at the clock on his desk, it read nearly eleven O'clock. He listened to sounds of movement, or tremendous noise like that which had woken him the morning before, but he heard nothing, the whole Manor was quiet. His Mother usually went out with friends today, but Draco doubted very much that she did on this Saturday after yesterdays on goings.  
  
For most of the day he stayed in his room and read his potion book and put the finishing touches on homework for class. The only one that he still needed to finish completely was for Professor Binns, but he couldn't sit and write that essay for more than 30 minutes at a time.  
  
He ate alone in the kitchen at four thirty. The house elves had prepared salmon and whipped potatoes for him, he ate this slowly until it was quarter after five and he left to change into his Quidditch robes. He looked over his broom once, it was immaculate of anything out of place. They needed to win the game tonight, and they needed to do so by a fair margin or they wouldn't qualify for the playoffs.  
  
He arrived early and sat down in the bleachers to wait for his teammates. He had to admit he was a little nervous about this game. Nervous because he knew it was important and nervous that Harry would do just what he said he wouldn't yesterday. He guessed either way wasn't too bad, after all he only had a week left of summer and then he would be back at the castle. He was looking forward to talking with Professor Snape about the book he had bought, he was interested in trying a few of them. He also wanted to go over his paper about reversing the irreversible.  
  
He looked up from his thoughts at that time when he caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye. Coming towards the bleachers where he sat were Harry and Ginny, as well as her brother Ronald and Granger. Draco took a deep breath and hopped down over the rail onto the field, his robes billowed behind him as he landed. "Hey Harry, already for our big game?" For the first time Draco heard a bit of happiness in his voice. He noticed that the eyes of Ronald and Granger had widened when he used Harry's first name, he enjoyed that.  
  
Harry smiled and nodded his head, "Sure am, can't wait to cream these, what were they called again?" The sarcasm was thick in his voice but he was good at lying, there was no give away in his eyes.  
  
"I think they were called the Couch Potatoes." Draco answered, he was even better at lying than Harry was, he could fool most of the teachers, all except for McGonagall, she hated all the Slytherins.  
  
Ginny let out a long smile, she was no good at lying, "No, no, they were called the Red Haired Chuddley Chesterfields." She burst into laughter. She wasn't any good at making up names either. Draco noticed that Ronald's face had went an interesting shade of red and he nudged Ginny quite hard. She straightened up right away, the smile gone.  
  
Harry shook his head, "We better start warming up Draco, see you on the field Ron." He took Ginny's hand and started out towards the goal post they would be using.  
  
Draco noticed that when Harry has used his first name it got an even better response from the red head and Granger. They thought he was sick or something, they looked at each other with concerned expressions. "Good luck today Weasley." He turned sharply and followed after Harry.  
  
They warmed up for the fifteen minutes that they had before the referee showed up. They played high speed follow the leader, they practiced a few of their old attack formations, then they pulled a couple of quick laps around the pitch.  
  
Draco took delight in catching fast glimpses of Granger and Weasley on the sideline. They were stunned by the way in which the three had become such a perfect team. Draco and Harry responded to each other on their brooms like they knew the other's thoughts. They used maneuvers that required the most intricate of all timing schemes. Their two brooms crossed paths only split seconds apart, if their rhythm had been off they would have collided, but they didn't.  
  
Finally the official showed up as well as the other two players of the Chesterfield Cannons and the game got underway. For most of the other games the crowds had been limited to a few of the parents of the other players, but today that changed. Mr. Bagman and his brother Ludo were in the stands as well as Granger and most of the other Weasley family, indeed two parents, two twins, and Percy the Prefect. If they hadn't known about Draco and Harry they would now. There was another girl whom Draco recognized as a former prefect from Howgarts. Draco was surprised to see her with Percy, she could do better than him, he thought.  
  
The other two players on the Cannons were scrawny boys probably in fourth year. They looked scared to death of playing against The Harry Potter, Draco scowled at them and watched them cower. Harry and Ronald were in the center position as the game begun. The quaffle flew high into the air and Harry sped off. His broom outstripped his best friend's by quite a marginal amount, and he quickly had control of the red ball. He pulled a sharp turn and flew in the direction of his own goal to re-group with his teammates, their opposition was in hot pursuit, if that's what you would call it. They formed into a tight diamond and then sped off down the field. Anyone who tried to break through their formation was thrown back without a hand being laid on them, the group was just flying too fast. Within a few moments Ginny had shot the first successful goal and the Knights were up ten to zero. Draco could hear the applause from the crowd.  
  
The Cannons took control of the ball, Ronald was leading them down the field in a very weak attempt at a V formation. Draco swooped down from below and knocked the quaffle out of Ronald's hands, it flew down towards and the ground but was plucked up by Ginny for another quick goal.  
  
The Cannons tried to use the diamond that the Knights had used five minutes before but their brooms were too slow. Harry came up from underneath and broke up the formation as Draco stole the quaffle and put it through the goal. He could see that Weasley was becoming frustrated. He took one of the two boys aside and told him to stay in front of the goal, to play keeper. Ronald took the quaffle down the field, he was flanked on his left by the remaining boy, they passed it back and forth as quickly as they could, but they weren't fast enough. Harry put on a burst of speed from his Firebolt and intercepted the ball easily in between the two. He whipped down the field, faked out the young and inexperienced keeper, and brought the score up to forty to zero.  
  
In a miraculous move, Ronald snatched the quaffle and flew directly towards Draco. Draco only had a split second to get out of the way or be knocked off his broom. Harry tried to catch up but Ron had already released the ball. It soared through the air and just made it into the goal. It would be their only point. Going on forty five minutes the score was now 120 to ten. The game play had slowed considerably, each team taking a long time to set up and execute plays. The Cannon's plays became more and more desperate with every passing minute. Weasley's anger was rising exponentially with the team's desperation. By the time the game was over he was furious and wouldn't even speak to Harry, he stormed off to the fireplaces without even his parents.  
  
Harry shook his head as he landed gently and congratulated Ginny with a soft kiss on her cheek, she blushed as red as her hair. He was soon joined by the Weasley family, who looked just as proud of Harry as if he were their own son. He was congratulated by all with red hair and then they left with Ginny to go and catch up with Ron. "Are you coming, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked as he lagged behind.  
  
He shook his head once, "No Draco and I are going to go out and get something to eat."  
  
She eyed him over once suspiciously, and then said in a whisper that showed her concern, "Don't drink to much Harry." She left quickly on the heels of her husband.  
  
"That was a great game Harry, Draco. I think your best one yet." Mr. Bagman was standing behind him with his brother and Draco. "Yes I must say I agree, hardly saw a game like that when I was playing for the Wasps." Ludo let out a hearty laugh after that followed by a large toothy smile.  
  
Harry and Draco both thank him and he wished them luck in the playoffs, "I'll be in the stands for everyone one of them, might even bring o a few of my friends by with me, they've got connections in the Quidditch world." He winked once and was gone along with his younger brother.  
  
"Great, we're going to be drafted in the Quidditch Association of England as chasers." Harry laughed at Draco's words. "Shall we celebrate at our usual pub?" he asked.  
  
Harry smiled, "Is there any other one that would have us? I'm going to change out of these robes first though." Draco nodded that he wanted to do the same thing and they moved on in the direction of the changing rooms.  
  
A few minutes later they were both clothed in more comfortable attire, they stashed their quidditch robes in a locker and headed for the nearest chimney. Draco went first, followed by Harry and they soon found themselves in the dark and smoky atmosphere of the Black Lion Pub. They were on their way to the booth they had used before when Draco was taken very sharply by the arm and led into a corner by Miranda. Her eyes darted frantically around the crowded room, she looked very nervous. "Miranda what the hell's the matter?" She quieted Draco with a sharp look and then sat him down in a booth the farthest away from the bar. "Well, what is it?"  
  
She cocked her head to one side and gave him a very unusual stare, one that said not to play innocent. "Your Mother, Madame Narcissa Malfoy, was in here the other day and was speaking with the proprietor. She told him that she knew you came in here a lot and then informed him of your age." She paused here and again gave Draco a very hard stare. "She then informed him that if you showed up here again, that he was not to serve you and contact her or the Ministry immediately. Even went so far as to say that the one who did would be rewarded." She said this last bit very sarcastically as if she didn't believe a word of it. Draco appeared to be thinking on this, he gazed off into the table trying to decide his course of action. Why had his Mother interfered? In all the years that Draco had been coming to this pub, she had never said anything, and Draco had not doubts that she'd known the whole time. He was furious at her now. She was only doing this because she didn't like the idea of Draco brining Harry here, well she had no right to choose his friends, and he had let her for too long.  
  
He let out a long breath, "Looks like we can't celebrate here tonight, Harry, but I've got an idea." He got up from the booth, "Thanks Miranda, for everything." He kissed her on both cheeks and slipped a few galleons into her pocket.  
  
The two boys walked a stealthily and quickly towards the fireplace. "Where're we going to go now Draco? We can't go back to the Burrow, we can't go to your place."  
  
"Why can't we go to my place? My Mother's not going to be around, it's Saturday she's out all day, and my Father's still away." There was an evil smirk on Draco's face.  
  
Harry didn't like the idea, he remembered Lucious's face in the cemetery, the yells he had called after Harry as he'd ran from them. He shivered.  
  
"Oh come on Potter, there'll be no one there, I promise." Draco saw Harry agree reluctantly and then he stepped into the fire, "Malfoy Manor!" A moment after the world stopped spinning and he'd stepped out of the hearth, Harry arrived. "Welcome to my house Harry. Never imagined in my wildest dreams that you'd be here, willingly that is." He smiled and let out a small laugh but stopped when Harry's eyes narrowed. "Come on, my rooms this way, I think I've got a bit of liquor up there." He showed Harry the way, pointing out various paintings of his famous ancestors. "This is the first Malfoy of England, he fought with Merlin in the first war against the Warlords. He's considered brilliant in potions and he's revered as the first Malfoy to come to England, but deep down every one hates him for fighting against the Warlords."  
  
They walked past libraries and studies and other rooms that Harry didn't know what to call until they finally came to Draco's room, the one with no pictures and the best furniture money could buy. Draco opened the door and let Harry in first and then closed the door behind them. He watched as Harry took in all of the furniture, the desk, the chairs, the bed, the armoire. Draco waited in anticipation. "This is nice Draco, really nice." Harry walked across the room to the red leather chair next to Draco's desk and sat down. He let out a long sigh, "Oh this is great."  
  
Draco smiled as Harry enjoyed the simple pleasures of a thousand galleon armchair. "That's my favorite chair in this whole Manor. Got it the year I started at Hogwarts as a Christmas gift." Draco moved over to his armoire and opened the bottom cabinet of it and pulled out a large dark colored bottle and two glasses. "The finest cognac in all of London. You thought what we had before was good, wait until you taste this." He poured them each a large glass and handed one to Harry. Draco sat down at the smaller black leather chair by his desk and took a long sip. "Now that's much better." He watched as Harry sampled his glass and smiled with the delight Harry took in it. "Now all we need is a good cigar."  
  
Harry laughed at this, "So what is there to do around here?" He looked again around the room but indicated with his hand that he meant the whole house.  
  
Draco took another sip from his glass and then set it down on his desk, "Well let's see, there's loads to read, and I draw a lot, and then there's homework, and did I mention reading?" He shrugged his shoulders, "There's really not much for a teenager."  
  
Harry cocked his head to one side, "I can't believe that, there has to be at least something to do. A pool table, a swimming pool, a basketball hoop, something."  
  
Draco shook his head, "Nope, worst place a person could ever live, especially if they couldn't read or stand the sound of quiet." He let out another long sigh, "The sound of quiet has never bothered me, it's quite relaxing after you get used to it." He listened now, there was no noise at all in the entire house. He looked back to Harry, woken from a dream, "Not the funnest house in England but there's alcohol."  
  
Harry held up his glass, "To the proprietor of this fine establishment." He tilted it in Draco's direction and took a long sip. "So you don't do anything over the summer for fun?" he asked putting his glass down.  
  
Draco smiled, "Well I do my potions homework, I read, I play Quidditch, I've already mentioned all of these though."  
  
"What about your two side kicks, Crabbe and Goyle?" Harry asked, "Where are they during all of this?"  
  
Draco laughed, "You'll never believe this, well maybe you will," he laughed again, harder this time, "They did so horribly this year in their classes, that they were sent to remedial sessions at Durmstang for the summer."  
  
Harry couldn't control himself at this, he spit out the cognac that he had been about to swallow and began to laugh. Draco tried to quiet him but it wouldn't be. "Harry really, if my Mother is home she's going to here you."  
  
He had a few more quiet laughs and then was silent. "You must have been really bored this summer with out them. No one to play jokes on, no one to make fun of." His eyes were alight with humor and he wore a broad smile.  
  
"Those two are just sheep, they'll follow anyone around." Draco's voice portrayed no emotion to admitting his own friends were in fact not. He spoke these words as he would speak any other facts of life.  
  
Harry wondered whether Draco knew everything about Crabbe and Goyle's families. He wondered if he should inform him, he had the right to know. "Crabbe and Goyle's Fathers, do you know about them?" He asked this in the softest way possible. Draco shook his head. Harry took a long sip from his glass and then continued, "Not many people know the real story of what happened last year. The Tri-Wizard cup was a portkey, set up by Bartemius Crouch Jr. who was using polyjuice to impersonate 'Mad-Eye' Moody. The portkey took Cedric and I to a far away cemetery, that's where Womrtail killed Ced." It was hard for him to talk about this, he had only spoke of it once over the summer to Ginny when she had asked him. He went on, "Wormtail tied me to a head stone and performed a spell that Voldemort had created to bring him back from the dead. Bone of the Father, unknowingly given, Flesh of the servant, willingly given, Blood of the enemy, forcibly taken." He spoke these words melodically and with such rhythm, how often he had heard them in his dreams. "Voldemort returned to life with the bone from the Father he murdered, with Peter Pettigrew's hand, and my blood, and then he called his loyal Death Eaters to him."  
  
Draco wanted Harry to continue very badly, he wanted to know everything. But something was holding Draco back as well, was he ready to hear what he had believed for so long, could he accept it? "Please Harry, go on. I need to know."  
  
Harry inclined his head once and continued, "He pressed his finger to the Dark Mark on Peter's arm and waited. Minutes passed and then wizards, with hoods and masks, apparated everywhere. They formed a circle, Crabbe and Goyle's Fathers were in the center bit somewhere. Yes, they follow Voldemort, they are sheep just like their sons." He stopped and took another large sip of his cognac, to reinforce his strength, "But on Voldemort's right hand, stood your Father."  
  
Draco's eyes widened with shock, but they soon dimmed and he lowered his head in acknowledgment. It was what he always knew to be true, but now he had the proof of a witness not just the braggings of his Father. He could feel Harry watching him. "What did they do to you Harry? What did my Father and his associates do to you?"  
  
Harry didn't answer him at first. He knew Draco simply wanted to hate his Father more, but he would not deny him the answer to the question. "Voldemort put the Crucio curse on me and let me suffer and then he tried to use Imperio me and force me to duel. Imperio doesn't have a lot of effect on me though and I ran away from him and back to Hogwarts." Harry purposefully hadn't told Draco about Prior Incantatem, that was his own special memory, he hadn't spoken of it to Ginny either.  
  
Draco couldn't imagine what all of that must have been like for Harry. For a long time neither of them spoke and then Draco finally did, "Harry, Harry I'm sorry that all of that has happened to you." Draco truly meant what he had just spoken, he was sorry for anyone who had to endure what Harry had. He was even sorrier that Harry had had to go through all of that at the hands of his Father.  
  
To his amazement, Harry simply smiled and shrugged it off. "It's not your fault Draco. Thanks though." He took one last large sip and finished off his glass of cognac. They had been talking in Draco's room for well over an hour now, and Harry thought that it was time to go before Mrs. Weasley got angry or Mrs. Malfoy came home. "I think I'll be off Draco. Thanks for the cognac, you're right it's better than the Dragon's Blood. Next time I think I'll have to bring the drinks and you can bring the sob stories."  
  
Draco smiled and nodded, "Anytime. You can use this fireplace to floo home if you want." He opened a small container and threw some of the powder into the fire. "See you Monday at five for a bit of practice before our first playoff game."  
  
"That's a good idea, I'll tell Ginny when I get back. See you later Draco, thanks again." Harry stepped into the fire and with a few words was gone.  
  
Draco sat down into the large armchair Harry had been sitting in and refilled his own cognac glass. He turned out the lamp with a quick gesture and allowed the room to be lit solely by the roaring fire. He sipped from his glass and leaned back in the chair, relaxing as he slowly fell into a gentle sleep from the sounds of the flickering flames.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The week seemed to fly by for Draco. There seemed to be no more news about the murdered Giants and no new attacks either. Draco was kept quite busy packing and with his Quidditch games. Monday night their first playoff game had been a huge success. They had beaten the Viking Raiders 200 to 100. The crowd in attendance was very supportive of them and afterwards Ludo introduced Draco and Harry to the coach of his old team, Coach Frank Glenn. Of course Draco knew that the Wasps had no chance of ever picking up him or Harry either as chasers or beaters. Since Ludo had left some ten years ago, the team's reputation had declined steadily and there was talk about dismantling the franchise.  
  
Harry told Draco about how Ronald had locked himself in his room all of Saturday night and part of Sunday and refused to speak to him. Harry had slept on the couch that night. Hermione had finally been the one to talk him out of his room promising that Draco was not replacing him as Harry's best friend. Draco had laughed quite hard at this, Harry did too for that matter, and agreed that sometimes Ron acted a little childish.  
  
Tuesday brought nothing of importance for Draco. His Mother congratulated him on his win at breakfast and showed him the article the Daily Prophet had printed about the game. Then she was off into the city to run some important errands. Draco didn't know what kind of errands were so important that she wouldn't let the servants do them or force him to, but he didn't care.  
  
Wednesday night's game was somewhat more challenging. They were playing the Knight's Dragons, the team was made up entirely of fifth years and each of them had played chaser for their house team. Throughout the first half of the game the Knights of Hogwarts had been trailing by several points, and it had not looked promising. Going into the last half an hour though, Harry spurred them on and they played harder than they had played since their first game. There was five minutes left and the score was tied. Each team was flying at top speed trying to score before the end of regular game play, neither one wanted an over time match. The quaffle was being passed back and forth at high speeds. The defensive moves to prevent scoring were of a professional level. Draco was nearly knocked off his broom on one occasion they were playing so fierce.  
  
Finally with only one minute left the Knights of Hogwarts tried a desperate attempt to win the game. They had never practiced this move before but they had seen it used once during the World Quidditch Cup game the year before. Flying in a tight, fast diamond pattern they bolted down the field, Ginny had the quaffle with Harry in the diamonds center position. The three opposing players attacked the pattern all at once. It was at this point that Harry leapt from his broom onto the back of Draco's. His Firebolt continued on the same path by itself, Ginny leapt off of her much slower broom and onto Harry's. She pressed her body flat to it and sped off out of the formation. Draco and Harry tried to block the two players nearest them from reaching her. There was a lone rider following close on her tail, he was within inches and he could if he wanted to simply tug on the end of the Firebolt. The goal was coming up fast, Ginny brought her body up a fraction, just enough to allow her a shot. At the same time her follower grabbed the end of her Firebolt in a last attempt to prevent her from scoring even if it meant a penalty. Ginny's broom jerked backwards and she threw the quaffle towards the goal before she fell. The ball soared through the air. It was not the shot that she had intended, it needed more speed.  
  
The crowd watching went silent, and indeed everyone on the field stopped to watch it's flight as well. Finally it hit the rim of the goal and stopped, teetering first one way and then the next. No one dared to breath, the Knight's Dragon could lose if the ball fell through the wrong way and the Knights of Hogwarts could win. It seemed to stop wobbling for a moment as if it would not decide which way to fall and then it did fall, right through the back of the hoop to give the Knights of Hogwarts the final points they needed to win the game.  
  
The crowd erupted in roars of applause and gave the Knights a standing ovation. Harry nearly toppled both him and Draco over he was so excited. He clapped Draco on the back a good many times. Ginny nearly collapsed she was so happy and quickly flew down to the ground. She was soon joined by Draco and Harry, who picked her up and swung her around in his arms. Then he pulled her close and just stood with her between his arms.  
  
The three of them were congratulated by the two Bagmans again and this time introduced to the coach of the Chudley Cannons, who Harry thought were even worse than the Wasps. Ron nearly fainted when he came over to congratulated Harry and his sister, "You're, you're, you're," was all he could stammer out. Finally he begged his Mother for a quill and asked Mr. Patrick if he could sign the Cannon's emblem card that he carried with him in his wallet.  
  
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley congratulated Harry quite a bit and told Draco was he was a decent Quidditch player. Draco took that as a larger compliment than it was, since it came from the Weasley family and soon said good bye to his two teammates and headed home.  
  
His day Thursday wasn't much better than Tuesday. The highlight of the day was when he received an owl from Professor Snape.  
  
Dear Draco,  
  
I wish to send my congratulations on such a fantastic game Wednesday night. Unfortunately I was not able to attend and I'm sure the article does not give the final play justice. I am pleased to inform you that I will be in attendance for Friday's game, as will the Headmaster and perhaps a few of the other Professors. I hope that our Mr. Potter isn't giving you too much trouble, but if he is simply let me know, the semester starts soon after all.  
  
Hope your summer has been well and that you are ready for the start of a new school year. Sincerely,  
  
Professor Severus Snape  
  
Draco re-folded the letter and put it into his trunk. He had always felt e certain connection with Professor Snape that he hadn't had with other Professor or adult. Snape knew what he was going through, of that Draco was sure. He knew of his Father and he knew of many of Voldemort's other feats. Draco had never stopped to wonder how Snape knew so much, he had always taken it for granted.  
  
Thursday Draco also finished packing. He made sure that he left one of his new school uniforms on top so that he could change on the train and that his book on potions was also easily accessible during the trip.  
  
Friday night the Knights had their third and final playoff game. If they won this game then they would go on to the Junior English Quidditch Cup. Draco trimmed all the straw in his Nimbus 2001, he polished the handles and made sure that it was balanced right. He took out his clean set of robes and laid them out on the bed and then he sat down with a glass of cognac to quiet his nerves as he waited out the next two hours.  
  
Finally at a quarter to five he took a very long shower and dressed in the most meticulous fashion. He made sure his robes were pressed properly and that everything was strapped in the correct fashion. Once he was positive that everything was where it was suppose to be he took the floo network to the Quidditch Pitch.  
  
The game was quite fast paced once they started but the Knights had a clear advantage over the Chameleons. The Chameleons were all fourth year students who had clearly been lucky in their match ups. Their technique was admirable but was not fine tuned enough to pose a threat to the Knights. Throughout the game one team would score and then the other, it went back and forth every point. But the Knights made up for that when the Chameleons would drop the ball or miss a pass and couldn't recover quick enough. In the end the Knights won 300 to 190. The filled bleachers now roared to life, again giving the Knights a standing ovation. Harry shook hands with all of his opponents, each one agreed that if they had to lose in the third playoff game it was worth it to lose to The Harry Potter.  
  
Ludo and his brother were again in attendance and this time they had a coach that was worth while to meet. Mr. Duncan was the coach and head scout for the English National Team. "You boys are the best pair of chasers I've seen in quite a while." His voice was sincere and he smiled as he spoke to Harry and Draco, Ginny had joined her family and some of her Father's friends from work including Mr. Diggory.  
  
"Thank you Mr. Duncan, but Harry and I are both Seekers normally and we're even better at it." Draco didn't mind playing chaser, he liked being able to move so freely and maneuver through such difficult plays, but he would much prefer to be alone in the sky searching for a ball that only measured an inch.  
  
Mr. Duncan nodded, "So I've heard. Some of the catches that you've made Harry are ones my seekers could only dream of making." Harry smiled at this flattery. He remembered each catch that he had made. Each one in it's own way had been his best, from the first to the last. "Next summer I'm starting to train another National team. If you two are interested I'd love for you to come and try out, in whatever position you want." He smiled again.  
  
"Thank you Mr. Duncan, I'm sure Draco and I would love that. Perhaps I can convince him to play chaser for one World Cup and then return to our more preferred position. But who will you find that can keep up with our pace?" The small group gathered laughed at Harry's wit and then left saying good bye and that they would all be in touch.  
  
As the people cleared Draco could see Professor Snape waiting at the back for him. He smiled as his Professor approached him, he could feel Harry's disposition changed as Snape became closer and closer. "Well Mr. Malfoy that was an excellent show, congratulations on going to the finals. I'm sorry to say that the Headmaster missed tonight's game, there was something he needed to tend to." Snape's words flowed out of his mouth in the usual fashion, very hoarse, very sinister.  
  
Something didn't feel right though when Snape pronounced his name and his eyes seemed so much colder than ever before. "Thank you Professor, but to be honest that wasn't one of our most challenging games, was it Harry?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "No, Wednesday's game was much more difficult and that last play was really something. I think it was the Daily Prophet that said next year's league would never top this summer's after that play." His tone was very mild, not arrogant, and he was simply stating the facts of what he had read.  
  
"Yes, I believe I read that as well Mr. Potter, but you shouldn't always believe your own press coverage." Snape seemed a little hurt when this didn't earn a snigger from Draco. His eyes widened in a questioning sort of way. "Well, I must be going Draco, I will see you and Mr. Potter in a few days." His head jerked in Harry's direction as he said his name. Then, with a courteous bow he left them both.  
  
Harry shook his head after Snape had left earshot, "I really don't understand why that man despises me so."  
  
Draco smiled, "Wouldn't hold out for universal popularity Harry, never gonna happen with my Father around. I guess I'll see you tomorrow night, I hear they're actually having to sell tickets now because everyone wants to come and see us play."  
  
Harry wasn't sure if he believed this or not but he knew that he would find out the next day. "Yeah, see you tomorrow, same time as before for a bit of warm-up." Draco nodded once and then left Harry as well. He wandered slowly over to where the Weasleys were waiting for him. He had been feeling quite exhausted lately from all of the Quidditch, and he thought that it would be a relief to be back at Hogwarts soon.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Saturday afternoon Draco woke to the sounds of pouring rain. He pulled back the hangings of his bed so that he could see out the window. Draco couldn't see the sun at all, the rain was coming down as if it would never have to rain again and a thick fog hung in the air. Draco thought it was certainly a good thing that the Quidditch Pitch was indoors or he would be dreading tonight's game even more.  
  
He got up slowly, it was only two O'clock and he knew he would need something to make the time pass or it would seem like forever before the game. He decided that he would take a long shower and then grab a quick bite of breakfast or whatever they were serving at this time of day. The shower was long and hot and when he finally finished he dress in a silk bathrobe.  
  
The kitchen was deserted save one house elf. She bowed low to the ground when Draco entered, "How may I serve you Young Master Malfoy?" The front of her apron was covered in flour. Draco thought for a moment, since his Mother was out he could have whatever he wanted. "I think I'd like some breakfast in the dining room please. Scrambled eggs, bacon, juicy not crisp, buttered toast, and fresh squeezed orange juice." His voice wavered at first, but it still held a note of command in it. The house elf bowed once more and then set off around the kitchen fulfilling his order.  
  
Draco left the kitchen and went to wait in the dining room. He sat at the head of the table and within 20 minutes his breakfast sat before him. He ate slowly and enjoyed the tastes. The house elves could cook quite well, and when Draco left he was full. Draco walked casually back to his room, he had used up a little more than an hour of time, and now had two left. He closed his door and pulled off the robe he wore. He hung it up carefully, the silk tended to keep any creases that it acquire due to the hanger and it had to be done just right. He selected one of his favorite outfits, he only had one more day to wear all of his clothes before he was off to Hogwarts. After Sunday he would be stuck in wizard robes for another four months until Christmas break. How he missed his fancy muggle clothes during the school year.  
  
He slumped down into his leather armchair and tried to think of something that he could do for the next hour and a half. Finally he figured he would pull out his new potions manual for class but it was so far down in his trunk that the only way to reach it was for him to unpack everything, and that would use up too much time. He slumped back into his chair and began to draw in his sketch pad. He didn't really know what he was drawing he just let his hand wander where it wanted to.  
  
He stopped drawing at four thirty and put the pad back underneath his bed, he didn't even take the time to look at what he'd drawn. He pulled on his Quidditch Robes and gear and made sure that his broom was immaculate. He looked himself over in the mirror. His figure had improved over the summer. Playing chaser required so much more movement so much more of the time than seeker, he would be a little disappointed when he started the house league again.  
  
He stepped into the bright green fire and instructed it as to his destination. He kept his broom tight to his body during the trip, on one occasion it had caught on the side and some of the straw had come out of place. Finally the pitch came into view. Draco slowly started to stop spinning and then came to a complete rest.  
  
He stepped out onto the field, his legs felt like jelly and he finally became aware of all the tension he'd been trying to avoid. Harry and Ginny were already there, and Draco took a little bit of comfort in the fact that they looked as bad as he did. Neither one was talking very loudly, in fact it looked like they were talking at a funeral. Draco walked over to them very slowly, "I feel like this could be the worst day of my life Harry." He meant every word of it too.  
  
Harry nodded in agreement, "Know how you feel Draco, I could hardly sleep last night." He had small black circles forming under his eyes, but they were alert now, and Draco knew he would wake up a little once the game started.  
  
"Why don't we start warming up, it'll help us calm down a bit." Draco suggested, and everyone agreed.  
  
They began with small circles around the field, flying up and down. Then they picked up the pace a bit as they flew faster. Harry put in a few rolls as he lead them around and around the pitch. The stadium filled up around them as time went by, but they seemed to take no notice of it.  
  
At ten minutes to six they stopped, each one was awake now and fully ready for what was to come, but Draco couldn't shake the feeling in his stomach that something wasn't right. The other team had showed up now as well. Each was male and looked to be in top physical shape. They were tall, with broad shoulders and large arms. Their brooms were decent brooms, in fact they were the predecessor of the Nimbus 2001.  
  
The stands were so full of people that Draco couldn't tell if he knew anyone or not. The referee came out and he explained the rules to everyone, "This is a two hour game with a break after the first hour. The team with the most points at the end of the allotted time will win the Intermediate English Junior Quidditch Cup. I want a clean game. May the best team win." The crowd roared as the referee finished and indicated that the teams could now mount their brooms. He stuck the whistle in between his teeth and looked from one player to the next, the quaffle poised in his hand. Finally the whistle rang out in the stadium and the quaffle was launched into the air. The six players rose with a vigor that they had yet to exert during the summer Quidditch league.  
  
The Hoards took possession of the quaffle and weaved back and forth across the field. They were soon stripped of possession by Draco who used his hand to dislodge it from their tight grip. He grouped with Harry and Ginny in a tight triple stack formation and tried to move up the field. Their attempt was soon broken up by a spearhead counter formation that destroyed the three levels. The team tightened into a diamond formation that the Knights couldn't penetrate, and with that the Hoards took the lead ten to zero.  
  
Harry took the quaffle and tried to run a flanking play. This was kind of the reverse of a V formation. Draco and Harry formed a protective outwards V while Ginny flew very close behind and was kept safe from the opposing team. It was with this play that the Knights scored their first goal making the game ten to ten. The Hoards formed a double man, single rider play in which two of the players passed back and forth very rapidly over short distances while the third teammate set himself up down field in a position that he could receive a long pass and score easily. Draco gave this third player a lot of room, more than Harry or Ginny thought wise, but when the long pass was made Draco put on a burst of speed to intercept and was down field before anyone knew it. He made the score twenty to ten.  
  
The Hoards tried to same reverse V that the Knights had used so successfully only minutes before but the Knights also knew the counter play. They used the triple stack to swoop in from above and below, the V formation was useless against this, the Hoards lost control of the ball and the Knights had another goal.  
  
It was fast becoming apparent that the Hoards in the past had simply used their brute strength to over power their opposition. The quick plays and fancy skills of the Knights was wreaking havoc on all of the Hoards well thought bully tactics and thirty minutes later at the midway point they were losing to them 150 to 30.  
  
The crowd cheered and applauded wildly as the referee signaled with his whistle that it was now an hour into the game and that they would take a ten minute intermission with the Knights winning by seventy points.  
  
Draco and his teammates landed out of breath on the soft grass. Water was brought to them from an employee of the stadium and Draco quickly drank it down. He had never felt this tired in his entire life and he could not imagine now how chasers could play for hours on end without rest. "The games going well, if we keep this up we'll win for sure." He said finally in small bits at a time.  
  
Harry was standing with his hands on his knees trying to catch his breath, the water sat untouched by his feet. He nodded once that he had heard Draco but said nothing in response.  
  
Ginny leaned against the walls of the stadium, her whole back pressed against the wood. She sipped at her water slowly, she didn't want to cramp up for the second half of the game. "Can you imagine if we had had to play this team before Mr. Bagman gave us all that coaching?" She shook her head in amazement. Draco found that he had to agree, if someone had seen their first game and then seen this game they probably would have thought that there had been some kind of mistake. Two teams with the same name, or a spell had been cast over the team to allow them to play better, or perhaps one had been cast earlier to hinder their skills.  
  
Draco was just thinking about this when he noticed that Harry stood up quickly and stared in the direction of the entranceway. Draco followed his gaze and was shocked by what he saw. Striding across the pitch as if she owned the stadium, and without a care in the world, was his Mother. The referee tried to stop her, tried to tell her the game would be starting back up again in a few moments and that she couldn't be on the field. She kept walking as if he weren't even there. Draco also noticed that she was dressed quite differently. She wore a black traveling cloak and leather boots. Her face had a very displeased, angered look on it.  
  
Finally she stopped in front of the trio, the referee had left her to go and get Mr. Bagman. "Draco, come with me." She turned and began to storm away but stopped when Draco didn't follow her. What was she talking about, he couldn't leave now, they were about to win the Junior Cup. "Draco, you're coming with me, now." She hissed these words as his Father might have, and her eyes narrowed.  
  
Draco held his ground, "Mother I'm in the middle of a Quidditch game, we're going to win the Cup!" His voice was stern but Harry knew that it also contained a plea in it.  
  
He watched as Narcissa became enraged. "Young Man, you will not argue with me. I don't care about a silly little Quidditch Junior Cup, now you will come with me now." Her eyes had fire in them and her voice rose an octave as she practically screamed these words.  
  
Draco looked from his Mother's face to Harry's. One held only rage, the other had a look of disappointment. Finally Bagman arrived with the referee, "Madame Malfoy, is everything alright here, we're just about to start the second half of the game? Should I find you a seat?" The respect in his voice was sickening to Draco, he only used it because of the money and power she had, no one ought to respect her, thought Draco.  
  
She turned to face him, some of the anger left her face, "No, Mr. Bagman nothing's wrong, thank you. I'm afraid though that Draco is going to have to leave the game a bit early, something terribly important has come up." Her voice had returned to it's normal tone and the words flowed smoothly, gracefully, charmingly from her lips.  
  
Draco stared from face to face, a desperate look on his own. Finally he lowered his head and nodded. His Mother turned sharply and left the field, she knew Draco would now follow in a moment. He looked at Harry's pleading face once more. His eyes, so sad and so disappointed, but Draco knew in a second that it would build to rage. "I'm sorry." The words nearly caught in Draco's throat and they came out a very forced whisper.  
  
Harry's eyes did fill with anger now and he turned his back on Draco as he picked up his broom and followed his Mother off of the field. He could hear Bagman asking Harry and Ginny whether or not they wanted to continue. He heard their answer, that they weren't quitters, that they would play to the end now even if they lost by hundreds of points. He heard Bagman announcing the unusual news to the crowd and then he heard nothing as he stepped off the field and followed his Mother home via the floo network.  
  
There were no lights on in the Manor when Draco arrived home, it was eerily quiet. Lightning illuminated the sitting room quickly before plunging it back into shadows. His Mother's steps echoed off the floor and resounded all through the room. She led him into the hall and towards his Father's study. The halls were just as dark as the sitting room and strangely clear of all servants and house elves. He noticed a long trail of water leading down the floor, as if someone had come in from the pouring rain. The steps seemed to be erratic and they didn't follow a straight line but rather weaved back and forth across the passageway.  
  
The door to his Father's study was shut, but even so Draco could hear an unusual noise coming from behind it. Light spilled out from underneath the large oak door as his Mother knocked on it once and then passed her wand over it in a strange pattern. He heard a single lock click, but his Mother did not move to open the door. A moment later there was the sound of a second lock being unfastened and the door swung inward on it's hinges. The scene that awaited Draco was somewhat horrifying. The fire roared in one corner and every available candle and lamp was lit. Things lay scattered all over the floor. A wet and dirty torn black traveling cloak like his Mother wore. A white mask cracked down the center and with small droplets of what Draco presumed to be blood. A dented and mangled shield that Draco remembered from when his Father was first packing at the beginning of the summer. It no longer held it shimmer and seemed useless now.  
  
As Draco followed this small mess around the room his eyes came to rest on his Father. He sat propped up in a large armchair off to one side of the room. His shirt was ripped and soaked through with rain water. The Unicorn cloak that he wore was also destroyed but this was soaked crimson with not mere water but with someone's blood, Draco knew not whether it was from his Father. As he watched his Father winced in pain and took a long drought from a bottle sitting on the table next to him. Propped against this table was the sword Draco knew to be the family sword, it was stained the same color as the Unicorn cloak but it still held a faint glow.  
  
His Mother rushed inside the study and beckoned Draco to follow, she pushed the door shut after him and refastened the locks. Draco followed her slowly, unsure of what she would ask of him, he didn't know any medi- wizarding spells, they taught those in sixth year as a minor study.  
  
His Father winced again in pain and Draco could tell he was having trouble controlling screams. "Narcissa hurry up, I'm dying here." His shouts were horrible, his pain came out in anger. Narcissa bent over her husband and examined the wounds each very carefully. Lucious controlled the urge to yell out as she poked and prodded each cut, bruise, and scrape. "Lucious, you're going to have to tell me exactly what happened, I wasn't in the area when you were attacked." His Mother spoke these words as if she were doing nothing more than asking directions and Draco was shocked. But his Father began to speak and Draco listened intently.  
  
"We were just rounding up what we thought were the last of them when a new front opened up in front of us. Maybe fifty or more Giants rushed at us with full force, our soldiers were so sparsely distributed then that we sustained heavy casualties. And these Giants were different, their skins were thicker somehow that our killing curse was only mildly useful, it stunned them at best. It seems that these Bulgarian Giants are physically different from the rest of them. McNair was the one who first drew his sword and fell one close to him. Soon everyone had unsheathed their weapons and a hand to hand battle began. The Giants used clubs and broad swords fit to their proportions, we had trouble defending ourselves against them. I was struck several times and by one curse, which the cloak absorbed most of." He paused here and reflected before going on, "I don't know which curse it was, it was one not familiar to me. It killed Knot and brought down many others. They writhed and screamed in agony while their skins turned awful shades of green and began to bubble and hiss."  
  
Draco heard a sharp intake of breath from his Mother at the recognition of this curse. His Father said no more now as his wife ran around the room collecting the things she needed and then returned. She had in one hand a very sharp ornamental knife, the hilt of which was shaped like the head of a Cobra with it's hood out. In her other hand was a small vial and a large python fang. She turned to Draco, "Draco hold out your arm, the potion your Father needs requires the blood of an heir."  
  
Draco instinctively stepped back, scared of what was about to come. Quickly his Mother grabbed his arm tight and pulled him back towards her. "It will only hurt for a little while." Her voice was sharp, not soothing, and her grip tightened on his wrist.  
  
He began to shake as he silently drew up the sleeve of his Quidditch robes and held out his arm palm up. His eyes were fearless but very distant and they screamed out an unheard plea. His Mother looked from his face to her husband, who was watching this scene intently, and then down at the arm that was outstretched before her. Without any hesitation she dragged the knife quickly across Draco's arm just below the elbow. The blade was cold against his skin and he could feel it penetrating deep into his arm and with a burning sensation. His head flung back in agony but he was resolute that he would not cry out, he would not express the pain that he felt. The blood rushed down his arm wave after wave.  
  
His Mother pressed the vial to his skin and let it fill once with his red essence. This she poured carefully into every cut that his Father had sustained. Draco watched as the wounds smoked slightly and stopped bleeding. They did not seal but they looked as if they were nothing but open scars. His Mother held the vial to Draco's skin once more, filling the vial this time only half way. She used the same knife as she had to open Draco's veins to cut the tip of the fang away, a golden liquid poured out of it. The new substance was as thick as blood and seemed to shimmer in the odd lighting. Draco drew back quickly as it's fumes entered his nostrils, it was a horrible and repulsive smell.  
  
His Mother added this venom to the half filled vial of blood and then stirred it six times with the empty fang. She spoke two very odds words, the sound of which sounded oddly like a hiss instead of any syllables that had entered his ears before that day. Smoke rose suddenly from the vial and she offered it to her husband who's condition seemed to be worsening rapidly as they stood there. He raised it to his lips and only paused for a moment before he drank the entire vial. When the last ounce had passed his lips, he dropped the vial suddenly and the glass shattered as it hit the floor. He lurched forward, his chest tightening and his arms drawing towards his body. He was then pressed backwards against the chair in pain and suffering, his arms and legs flung in all directions. Finally his head flung forward and hung on his throat. He breathed deep, long breaths and was still.  
  
When he raised his head the face that met Draco's eyes was not that of a dying man, indeed it wasn't the face that he had stared at moments ago. This was the face of the Father he knew from the beginning of summer. His face had a vane smile on it and his eyes were alight with fire and pleasure.  
  
"How do you feel?" His Mother's words were spoken softly as if any violent or loud noises would shatter what they had just done.  
  
Draco watched as his Father stood up, the cuts on his chest were now completely healed. He was about to respond when the room began to spin for Draco and he looked down to see that his arm was still bleeding quite freely onto the floor. He looked up at his Father and then the room went dark and Draco could feel himself falling, falling, falling.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
The sounds of birds chirping came softly to Draco's closed eyes. There was no sound of violent rain or thunder coming from outside. He could feel the sheets of his bed and the silk of his pajamas. He could also feel a searing pain in his arm. He sat up in his bed and pushed his back against the wall. He rolled up his sleeve and saw that his arm had been completely bandaged. He undid the bandage carefully, he didn't want to aggravate it in anyway. As the bandage fell away Draco could see a long jagged scar running across the flesh of his arm and the memories of the past night came back to him. How he had been forced to leave the Quidditch game early, how his Father had been hurt fighting, murdering the Giants, how his Mother had combined his blood with python venom to cure his Father of some sort of curse. How he had passed out from blood loss.  
  
He looked out from his window, the sky was beginning to darken, he must have slept the whole day away in exhaustion. He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and tried to get up but as soon as his full weight was on his legs a sharp and burning pain ran up through his arm and to the rest of his body. He fell back down onto his bed to catch his breath. After a few minutes he made up his mind to try again, this time with the support of his leather arm chair.  
  
He was about to push himself up when the door opened and a house elf came in. She carried a small wooden tray on which was set fresh bandages, a bottle of medication, and a hot bowl of soup. She came over to his bed without saying a word. She studied his arm carefully and then preceded to clean it. She first bathed it in a bowl of water from underneath his bed, which he hadn't known was there, and then she took a small tube of cream from her pocket and spread it over the length of his arm. As she put it on Draco could feel the pain begin to subside and he flexed it once or twice. After that the house elf wrapped it again in a bandage. Draco thanked her and took the bowl she offered and then with a bow she left.  
  
Draco ate the soup at his desk slowly, the trip form his bed over hadn't been nearly as painful as the first time he stood up. The soup was very refreshing it gave him new strength it seemed and he felt that he could have walk the entire length of the Manor.  
  
When he finished he took out a fresh pair of pajamas and laid them on his bed. He stripped off the old ones and went to take a shower. He made sure during the ordeal not to get his fresh bandage wet, it felt good on his arm and he would hate to have to take it off. He dried off and was just putting on his new pajamas when his door opened again. His Mother stood in the doorway, she stared at him for a second, "It seems your little teammates didn't need you after all, they won the game without you yesterday." She flung the Daily Prophet onto his bed, he hadn't noticed that his wasn't on his desk. "That cut is going to take more time to heal, you're going to have to keep that nasty scar as well, no way around it. Take this and then go back to sleep, we'll wake you in the morning when it's time to go." She put a glass full of a dark liquid into his hands and then left.  
  
Draco looked at the glass she had given him, he held it up to the light. It looked like a sleeping drought when he held it up, but when he smelled it he thought that maybe it was a strengthening potion. Whatever it was, Draco knew it wasn't going to harm him.  
  
Draco sat down again on the edge of his bed. He tried to think if he had everything he needed and remembered one thing he hadn't packed yet. He opened up the bottom of his armoire and pulled out a new bottle of cognac and a silver flask with a dragon on it intertwined with a gothic letter D, for Draco. He had had it made special last summer. He put both of these into a smaller compartment of his trunk and then sat back down onto his bed.  
  
He finished the potion his Mother had given him in one swallow and then lay back in bed. He read the article up the Intermediate Cup game as he waited for the effects of the potion to begin.  
  
~~~~~  
  
The Knights of Hogwarts Win the Junior Cup  
In a dramatic game the Knights of Hogwarts beat the Hoard in the Intermediate English Junior Quidditch Cup game Saturday night. The Knights were led to victory by Harry Potter, who is famous for his defeat against  
the Dark Lord fourteen years ago. During the regular season play of the house competition at Hogwarts, Harry normally plays the Seeker position. As  
it turns out though he is quite skilled as a chaser as well.  
  
The Knights led the Hoard after one hour of play 150-30. It was during the ten minute intermission that Draco Malfoy, the third player on the Knights after Virginia Weasley, was seen leaving the pitch and did not return to  
the game. There was no official comment on this, although Mr. Bagman  
informed the crowd before resuming regular play he did not specify the reason. Harry and Virginia kept playing, each playing as a keeper instead of chaser, and quite effectively blocking the single goal from most shots.  
  
In the end the Knights triumphed 150-140 in this the first annual Summer  
Quidditch League.  
  
It is rumored that both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have been offered tryout positions for the English National team which begins practice next  
summer.  
  
In other news, Viktor Krum, playing in his native Bulgaria, beat the  
Russian National team in a surprise victory....  
  
~~~~~  
  
Draco felt his eyelids grow heavy as he finished reading the article. The world slowly turned black once more and he drifted peacefully into a deep and dreamless sleep.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He could feel his body being shaken violently back and forth, someone was trying to tell him something as well. What was it, who were these people, what were they doing to him? He opened his eyes and sat straight up in bed. He looked around the room quickly to see what was wrong. His Mother was standing over him, her hands on her hips. The sun was shining through his window, "It's time to get ready to go Draco, or we're going to miss the train." She turned and left sharply not waiting for any answer. Draco ran his hand through his messy hair and rubbed his face. He couldn't believe that he had slept so soundly and for so long without even knowing it. He felt completely refreshed. He showered quickly and brushed out his hair so that it looked as neat as it usually did. He dressed in his best muggle clothes, black Armani shoes, pressed pants, and a black silk shirt. He double checked his trunk again and then magicked it down the steps.  
  
His Mother and Father were waiting for him in the dining room, he left his trunk outside the doorway. They had eaten without him already but he wasn't really that hungry anyway. He was nervous about going back to school, he hadn't been nervous about going to Hogwarts since his first year. He imagined it was because today he would see Crabbe and Goyle for the first time in months, and would have to face the rest of his housemates, and of course he would have to see Harry.  
  
He sat down in his usual seat next to his Father and a servant quickly brought out a plate of breakfast for him. He did not make eye contact with either one of his parents even though they were staring at him. He ate in silence and when he had finished he turned his fork over and pushed the plate away from himself. "I'm ready." He said quietly to whomever cared.  
  
His Father nodded, "We're all going to go with you to the station, although neither of us can go with you onto the platform." He paused and reflected on something, "Draco it's very important that you not discuss what happened two nights ago, people will begin to ask questions then." He smiled as his son nodded compliantly. "Good. When you come back for Christmas break we'll have a surprise for you, I think you'll like it." He wore a wicked grin now, and Draco really didn't care to find out what his Father considered a good surprise. "Well let's go then, wouldn't want you to miss the train." Lucious pushed his chair back and was followed out by his wife, son and chauffeur, who picked up Draco's trunk and carried it out to the car.  
  
The ride to the station was much like the ride home from it, except for the fact that the car didn't lurch quite so much as they weren't in any rush. No one spoke during the ride, Draco stared out the window watching the cars ride by.  
  
Finally they pulled up to the front of the station, the chauffeur got out quickly to get Draco a trolley for his trunk. Draco was about to get out as well when his Father snatched at his arm, none of his strength had diminished with his wounds as his hands bit into Draco's wrist. His eyes narrowed and his voice became very stern, "Remember what I said!" he released Draco roughly which sent him back a pace and out of the car. He stared into his Father's cold and warning eyes, he tried to give back the same uncaring glare, but in truth he was a little frightened now. He turned at the approach of the chauffeur with his trunk and left without another glance.  
  
The station was crowded with people and Draco had to hurry to make sure that he caught the train. As he approached the barrier to platform nine and three quarters he looked over each shoulder and then passed straight through. The platform was filled with families saying goodbye to their children, some for a few months, others for the year. Draco thought that it would have been nice to have a family that cared enough to come and say goodbye, but he was glad his own parents had decided not too. He went to the very rear of the train with his trunk and sat in the farthest compartment. He had not yet seen any of the people he'd dreaded, but as he was stowing his luggage the compartment door opened and a very large Crabbe and Goyle entered, cramping the once spacious room. It seemed that Durmstang may have had a rigid remedial academic program but their physical education was a little lacking. Draco stared at the two boys who hadn't moved from the doorway, vacant expressions on their faces, "Well sit down or get out!" They were used to his harsh words and the commanding manner in which he spoke to them, and they obeyed his words as if they had never left.  
  
Draco sat down on the opposite bench and took out the potions book he'd bought in Diagon Alley. He was about to start to read a chapter that had quite intrigued him when something caught his eye outside the window. He looked to his left and watched the students on the platform. There, almost directly in front of him, was Harry and his Weasley friends. They were all talking and laughing, all except Harry. He seemed reserved as he said his goodbyes to the two Weasley parents and Percy. He turned around to board the train and his vision darted up to the window in which Draco was staring. Seeing Draco, his eyes narrowed and his face was flooded with the same anger that he had worn on Saturday night. Draco swallowed a growing lump in his throat and sat back in his chair, feeling worse than ever now and forgetting everything that had happened to him after he'd left the pitch. He lowered his head onto his chest, embarrassed again by what he had done.  
  
He could hear his two friends starting to eat across from him, snorting and grunting as they stuffed their faces, laughing at things humorous to a first year. Draco ran his hand through his hair once more, this was going to be a long ride.  
  
~~~~~ 


	6. Just When Things Couldn't Get Any Worse

Chapter Five  
  
Just when things couldn't get any worse.  
  
The sky had begun to darken outside as the train moved steadily on. Draco had bored with his potions manual after the first half of the ride and stared absentmindedly out the window. He watched as hills and trees sped by. The pair across from him had stopped eating after and hour and went wandering through the crowded aisle. Draco had been glad to be rid of them. He sat in silence, not thinking about anything in particular, not caring to trouble himself. No one disturbed his solitude until the very end of the trip. Crabbe and Goyle burst into the cabin quite abruptly, the pure look of excitement on their faces was enough to make Draco sick. They stood in the doorway shifting their weight back and forth like children, neither one saying anything. "Well what is it!" Draco snapped at them sharply.  
  
They seemed taken back with the abruptness that he spoke to them with, they had forgotten exactly what he was like over the last few months. The permanent look of ignorance bled through their excitement and finally Crabbe spoke, "We ran into Harry Potter." His voice was coarse and raspy. It was very deep and monotonic, he spoke the sentence without inflections of any kind. Goyle nodded his head peevishly in agreement, "Yeah, you wanna go and torment him some?" His voice had annoyed Draco since the very day his Father had introduced him. He wasn't even sure how such a large person could have such a squeaky voice.  
  
Draco stared at the two of them. He wore no expression as he watched them standing clumsily at the entrance of the compartment, very blank and anxious expressions on their faces. His eyes began to twitch, the anger inside him building. Crabbe and Goyle could see the subtle changes in his emotions and they backed up slowly, their faces turning a pasty shade of white in fear. Draco couldn't contain himself anymore and he began to yell at the two boys who had been following him around for five long years. "Who cares about Harry Potter," he screamed. "I don't care about bloody Harry Potter." The two boys cowered in fear as Draco stood up and continued to yell, "Get out! Get out before I throw you out! And I don't want to hear that name again!" Crabbe and Goyle stumbled backwards and into the aisle. Draco marched after them, his eyes narrowed and his steps measured, "Don't come back, I don't want to see your faces again this semester. Leave me alone!"  
  
They began to run awkwardly down the aisle away from him, heads poked out of their cabins to see what all the noise was about. Draco gave everyone who was staring in his direction a cold and angry glance. He stormed back into his compartment and slammed the door shut. The glass wavered and fell, breaking into pieces. Draco had no inkling to fix it, they would be arriving soon. He sat down stubbornly into his seat and crossed his arms tight against his chest. Why did he have to be paired with the two stupidest, most annoying people for all eternity? What had ever done to deserve such punishment as this? In all honestly, Draco thought that he would most definitely prefer to be held in Azkaban than deal with those two.  
  
He thought back to what they had said. It wasn't really their fault, for every year since he had been coming to Hogwarts, Draco had tormented Harry at least once on the ride to and from the school. It was only natural then, in the small and under developed minds of Crabbe and Goyle, that he would want to torment Harry on this train ride. They didn't know that over the summer Draco had come to understand Harry in a way that he had never expected to, and that their friendship had been torn apart by family affairs.  
  
He shook his head violently to clear the images of that horrifying night from his thoughts. He was more than slightly ashamed that he had helped his Father in some odd way return to perfect health after being mortally wounded in something of a crusade against the Giants. He didn't understand what exactly had taken place though, the memories of that evening were partially clouded by the fact that he had passed out and remained unconscious for nearly a full day.  
  
He could feel the train begin to slow and he put his potions book into his trunk, hastily pushing it down the side. As he was about to close the lid he noticed his Slytherin robes sitting on top of everything else. He had completely forgotten to change what with all his interruptions. He made sure no one was peering in through the broken window and quickly switched from his expensive, black muggle clothes, into the plain black uniform robes of Hogwarts. The train had come to a complete stop and again Draco was rushed to stuff his original outfit into his luggage. He felt bad at not having the proper time to fold his silk shirt, but he really didn't have the luxury of it. He could hear Hagrid calling from the platform for first years and all around him people were disembarking. Draco had to slam the lid for it to close and then he practically ran down the deserted aisle to catch a carriage. There was no one on the platform and Draco started to run full out. Finally he could see the carriages, the last one was about to pull away. He reached for the door and pulled it open abruptly and jumped in as he heard the wheels begin to turn.  
  
He sat down and breathed a sigh of relief, "Nearly didn't make it there." He said aloud. When there was no answer he raised his eyes and stared at the four other, now cramped, occupants of the carriage. Weasley and Granger sat next to him, pressed tightly together, and Harry and the other Weasley girl sat opposite. Each of the four sets of eyes stared at him, blank glares on their faces. He slumped back in his seat, "Great, Harry Potter and his three musketeers." The excitement he'd shown for catching the last carriage now disappeared and was replaced with disappointment. He stared into Harry's cold and angry eyes, Draco tried to plead silently to forgive him. Harry ripped away and stared out the window as the rode through Hogsmeade. Draco dropped his chin to his chest, he wanted things to be the way they were before Saturday night.  
  
Draco's solitude among these four people was broken, "You ought to watch it Malfoy or we'll throw you out of this coach." Anger flashed in Weasley's eyes as he said this, his cheeks turned slightly rouge. He was shaking next to Granger, almost hiding behind her.  
  
Draco didn't look up from the floor, "Weasley, I would love to see you try that, but I'm afraid you won't be able to reach me with that leash Granger normally keeps around you neck." Draco's voice sounded like he didn't want to be bothered, like he didn't care if anyone else was even in the room.  
  
Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny, she started to speak horrible fast and defensively, "I don't keep a leash around his neck. It's not like we're dating or anything. Harry, do a lot of people think this way, because it's not true. And-,"  
  
She was about to continue when Harry interrupted, "Hermione!" Harry shot her a look and Draco began to laugh and earned reproving stares from everyone.  
  
"What?" He held out both of his hands and shrugged his shoulders. He had a very questioning look on his face and the start of a smile.  
  
But Harry looked angrier than ever, "Don't you have any shame Draco, or any pride for that matter?" His eyes burned with fire, all of his rage being delivered. "You just leave on Saturday night and we have to win the cup using cheap tactics, no excuse, no reason, just a thoughtless apology."  
  
Hermione, Ron and Ginny seemed as if they wanted to stay out of this, they weren't paying too much attention as Harry and Draco began to yell back and forth at each other. "Really Harry, what was I suppose to do, 'Sorry Mother, really Quidditch is the most important thing in my life right now and we have to win this final game. I'll be home in an hour!'?"  
  
"Quidditch isn't the most important thing in my life Draco. Friends are the most important things to me, since I have no family." Harry said these last words as if he were directing them and the blame that accompanied them at Draco personally.  
  
Draco was hurt now, and he lowered his voice, "Harry, I had no choice, and I couldn't have explain it to you then, because my Mother didn't explain it to me."  
  
"Well why don't you explain it to me now then Draco!?" His voice rose and Draco could see Hermione cringe once at it's volume. Draco looked at Harry, never in all the time that Draco had known him had he seen him this angry. Draco's eyes dimmed as he stared at Harry, waiting for his answer. He lowered his head, "Harry, I can't." There was a tone of apology in his voice as he spoke, his gaze raised and looked at Harry, into the anger that was still in his eyes, and now the sorrow as well.  
  
He shook his head, a slight scowl coming over him, and as the carriage came to a full stop in front of the castle he flung open the door and stormed out leaving Draco with Ronald, Granger, and Ginny. Each one had a confused look on their face and looked to Draco for an answer.  
  
Draco forced a large smile, "It's been a pleasure." He opened the door, tipped his imaginary hat, and left. Their faces gained confusion at this last attempt of humor.  
  
Draco quickly joined the scores of other students marching up the steps and left the other three far behind him. The students he walked next to all seemed jovial and generally in a good mood to be back at school and with their friends. Draco did not partake in this mass emotion. He wore his usual, and nearly forgotten, scowl, and strutted up the stone stairs as if they were his and only his. His cloak fluttered behind him and he pushed two second years out of his way.  
  
The multitude of students proceeded into the Great Hall via it's one entrance. Draco hated being around all of these people, shoulders bumping into him, hands brushing against him, breath on his neck. Just thinking about all of that physical, and social, contact made Draco feel ill.  
  
He made his way through the main door and to the Slytherin table. The table was already quite full and Draco had to take a seat towards the front where the first years would soon be sitting after they were sorted. Draco never liked these feasts, there were too many people eating at once and Draco could never get a seat far enough from his housemates.  
  
As Draco sat there on the cold bench waiting for the first years to come through the doors with McGonagall, something didn't feel right. He looked around at the students briefly, no one there seemed to be out of place. Harry and his sidekicks were all seated in their usual spots. His eyes were then drawn to the head table where the professors sat. The first thing he noticed was the new man seated next to Dumbledore. He was a man of average height and build. He had short cut brown hair which was parted to his left. He wore robes of a dark blue and seemed to having a relatively relaxed chat with the Headmaster. Draco suspected that this was the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. He seemed like an interesting sort, but not much fun, like Professor Snape. Draco finally knew what was wrong, Professor Snape wasn't sitting at the head table. Draco swung his head left from the new professor and found someone else sitting in his Professor's seat. He was a large man with bright blue flowing robes on, and a beret? He didn't seem to be enjoying his dinner very much, this pleased Draco, and he gave this new professor the worse look he had ever given at Hogwarts. The man simply gave a meager smile back and continued to pick at his food.  
  
Draco was getting angry now, why would they replace Professor Snape at the last minute? Just Friday he had even told Draco that he would see him when classes started up, and he wasn't one to lie, not to Draco. If Professor Snape wasn't teaching this semester, that meant that whoever this new teacher was would probably be their head of house as well. Draco definitely couldn't see this man coming out of Slytherin house, not alive anyway, and to be their head of house you had have graduated from Slytherin. It was a rule, a tradition, that had been mandated by Salazar Slytherin himself when he had left Hogwarts, that no one be allowed to know the Slytherin secrets who had not been in the house. Draco may have hated what the house stood for, but he prided the traditions just the same.  
  
His thoughts were interrupted by the huge oak doors being swung open. The old, gray haired McGonagall led in the first year students, there seemed to be so few of them this year, where had they all gone he wondered? The young children looked scared to death, everyone watching them, probably no one they knew, and all of these teachers who could destroy them in a heartbeat. Draco hadn't been scared as he had walked through those doors, he knew that the teachers could destroy him, and he wanted to learn everything that they knew, to become equal and better than they were.  
  
The students stopped in front of the stool and stared inquisitively at the frayed hat that sat on it. Dumbledore stood now and made to make his usual announcements, "Before the sorting begins, I have a few announcements. First off I would like to introduce our new Professors. Professor Mortessen comes from the Ministry of Magic to us this year and will be teaching the defense against the darks arts. Sadly our Potions Master has asked to take a leave of absence for one years time, he will be temporarily replace by our French friend who taught at Beauxbatons for a few years, Professor Épanss." The Headmaster began to applaud politely and was joined by every other house except for Draco's. No doubt the rest of the school was pleased that they wouldn't have to suffer through Snape's class this year, meanwhile Draco would have to suffer through the classes of Épanss. Dumbledore raised his hands for quiet and continued. "There are also the usual announcement about the Forbidden Forrest being off limits. There is to be no magic used in the corridors. And the list of objects that are forbidden has now been updated and can be found in Mr. Filch's office."  
  
He sat down now and McGonagall began to call off names from the short list of first years. The Slytherin house claimed four of these new students, two boys and two girls. Draco applauded along with his housemates as they were announced, but he really didn't care. As soon as the last student had been sorted Dumbledore stood a second time, "Abbera Caddaberra." With those words, the tables filled with food and the feast began. Draco helped himself to small amounts of the different things, but he wasn't as gluttonous as Crabbe and Goyle were being down the table. The first years sitting next to him were trying to pry questions from him. "What's Slytherin like?" "Are the classes hard?" "What's the head of house like?" "Is our common room nice?" Draco didn't answer any of these questions, he gave them each a stare, his eyes alight with anger and contempt, and then he went back to eating. He hated first years, he was never as bad as any of the first years he'd met. He detested their silly questions and their stupidity.  
  
Draco had finished eating and sat in annoyance for thirty minutes waiting on everyone else. He watched students from other tables eating, talking, laughing. Draco wanted to leave, he wanted the feast to be over already.  
  
Students began to finish, more and more people began yawning and looking tired. Dumbledore stood up at this, "Well, as we are all quite tired now, I suggest we head off to sleep. Prefects please lead your students to your common rooms. Goodnight!" With that Dumbledore left the head table and out the rear door of the Great Hall.  
  
Students began to pour out of the hall following his lead. Draco didn't want to be bothered with the multitudes again and instead sat in his seat sipping his pumpkin juice as if he weren't finished. Once there were only a few students left Draco got up out of and walked slowly down to the dungeons. It got colder and colder the further down he went and he soon came to the familiar portrait.  
  
"Tom Marvolo Riddle!" This password always worked on the portrait no matter what the year was, and only certain people knew it. It swung open and Draco stepped into the frigid common room. Sitting around the common room in the jet black leather chairs were eight people, eight of the most powerful people in the Slytherin house. In the big armchair next to the small fire sat Adrian Pucey who was a year ahead of Draco. Both of his parents were Death Eaters. He wore the black robes with the Slytherin house shield, his hair hung loosely just past his ears. Next to him in another armchair was Blaise Zabini, she had long brown flowing hair, deep blue eyes and a pretty face. Her Father served Voldemort. Sitting on the largest couch of the room were Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent Bulstrode, all of their Fathers were Death Eaters. All were eating leftovers from the feast, Crabbe and Goyle cowered slightly as Draco came into the room. Sitting on another of the large couches were two very pretty girls, one at each end of the couch, Tracey Davis and Gwen Greingrass, each was simply a pawn of Pansy's. Tracey had curly brown hair, similar to Grangers, but hers was styled in a proper fashion. Gwen had short cut blond hair that framed her face, blue eyes stared out at him. Tracey and Gwen had grown up in the same town but Gwen lived with her Uncle now who was a Death Eater, and Tracey's Father was a Death Eater.  
  
Lastly, sitting on the small love seat, was Pansy Parkinson. She smiled warmly at Draco, they had attended the Yule ball together the year before. Draco had enjoyed himself, but in truth the date had been set up by his Father. Pansy's family was one of the oldest wizarding families in England, even older than his own family. She was the only one who sat in this odd circle who's family wasn't connected to Voldemort. Her Father had the reserve seat of the Hogwarts board of regents. Even though it was only the reserve seat it was the most powerful one, they advised the board of its' decisions, in fact it was the only paid position. In his spare time he funded other wizarding things, but Pansy didn't talk about it a lot.  
  
The eight pair of eyes stared at him, challenging him. They know, he thought, they know I've changed over the summer. He stared back at them, challenging them back. No one spoke. Finally it was Tracey who broke the silence, "Draco come sit down and tell us about your summer, we hardly saw you at the feast." She patted a seat next to her on the couch she occupied.  
  
"Yeah, Mr. Quidditch big shot player who's going to play for England, tell us all about your summer." This was Adrian Pucey, who, Draco thought, had a very unusual tone in his voice, a patronizing one almost. Now he would have to stay and talk about himself or they would all know for sure that something was wrong.  
  
He put on a large smile, raised his hand in greeting and sat down next to Pansy. She smiled, as he had chosen to sit next to her, "So we all read some kind of weird stuff about your Quidditch experience, that you actually cooperated with Potter?" Her voice sounded questioning, like she refused to believe what she had spoken. The silence drifted down on the group again.  
  
"Well yeah, what was I suppose to do? I wasn't going to let Harry," He faltered, " Let Harry Potter ruin my chances of winning at least a few games." He tried to sound resentful of the question, resentful even of the implications of it, and confident.  
  
This seemed to put their fears to rest and they talked more openly. "What a weird summer though, eh? Both of my parents were gone for the whole time. Then on Saturday they come home beat to pieces." Adrian said this very matter of factly, as if it were not something unusual to speak of.  
  
Tracey nodded in agreement, "My Father left the night I got home, Saturday he came home with a broken arm and his face completely covered in blood." The small group of cringed at this. Blaise was nodding that something similar had happened to her Father.  
  
"My Uncle left a week after I got home and I haven't seen him since. I did get an owl from him a few days ago, he assured me he was safe." Gwen looked down at her feet, obviously she did not believe this statement. Her parents had died in Azkaban after they were caught by the Ministry with black magic artifacts that were commonly used by Voldemort.  
  
No one spoke again, they were respecting her thoughts. Finally Gwen raised her head, "Draco what's going on? Why all of the sudden activity?" All of their heads turned in his direction, waiting for an answer. Draco hated it when they did this, expected him to know all of the answers, it wasn't like his Father told him anything even if he was the right hand to Voldemort. Draco was surprised that they hadn't figured it out by themselves, they all got decent grades, and they could read like everyone else.  
  
Draco shook his head once and stared down at his own feet now, "I don't know." They seemed disappointed at this, but all accepted the lie he had just told and he was glad of it. "I think I'm going to head off to bed now. See you all in the morning."  
  
He stood up and left the room, leaving the remaining eight in silence once more. He climbed the stairs down six flights, it was as many flights as you could go and opened the heavy iron door. The room was as he had left it months before, nothing had been disturbed. His trunk sat at the foot of his four poster, he would unpack that later. He found a pair of his silk pajamas and changed, then he pulled back the heavy blood red curtains, and crawled into bed. It felt so nice to be back in the bed that he had slept in now for the last four years. His eyes closed slowly and he fell asleep, not even to be woken by his two roommates later on that night.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Draco woke up early the next morning, he felt refreshed and ready for another semester. His two roommates were snoring in their corner of the room. Draco had tried to convince Professor Snape that he needed his own room, but Snape had refused, "If I give you your own room it will look like favoritism, Mr. Malfoy." Draco had asked at least once a year, but so far the answer had been the same every fall. Draco walked across the frigid room and took a long hot shower. He dressed in his robes and left.  
  
There was no one in the common room yet and the fire had died out long ago. He walked enthusiastically up from the dungeons and towards the Great Hall for breakfast. He had his wand in the small pocket inside his cloak, it felt good to have it so near. The Great Hall only had a few students in it so early and Draco took his usual seat at the Slytherin table, the very front corner. This was so that only a certain number of people could sit next to him, he could never be surrounded or cornered. These thoughts troubled him, he ran his hand down his robes and felt his wand through the material and was satisfied.  
  
As he sat there eating slowly and quietly, Professor Épanss came in and was about to take the seat he had sat in last night when he spotted Draco. He altered his direction slightly and sat himself down uninvited across from Draco. Draco looked up from his plate and was greeted, "Good morning, you must be Draco Malfoy. Professor Guy Épanss." He extended his hand across the table and Draco grasped it firmly. He tried to show he had a strong grip, but Guy didn't seem to notice. He continued, "I have heard much about Severus Snape, quite an admirable Potions Master is what most people tell me."  
  
The way he spoke these words disgusted Draco. He sounded arrogant, and confident of himself in Snape's position as if he was a permanent replacement. "Professor Snape is the best Potions Master Hogwarts has ever had." The anger in his voice revealed his quick opinion of the new professor.  
  
Épanss didn't seem to mind, he smiled as if Draco had just told a joke, or commended him on being the best potions master. He moved on, "I congratulate you on your success this summer in the Youth Quidditch Association, quite impressive. It's too bad about the Cup game though, what happened?"  
  
He sounded only mildly curious, it was his eyes that gave him away. They were too alert, to excited. "I wasn't feeling well, had a touch of the flu I believe." Draco smirked at how condescending and patronizing he sounded, but Epanss had asked for it. Draco knew that Epanss was trying to pry information out of him. What did he care why Draco had left the game early, it wasn't any of his business?  
  
Guy seemed to be taken back by these words, his smile faded and his eyes dulled, he leaned back away from Draco a little. "I see, well, I think I'll just excuse myself then. It was nice meeting you Mr. Malfoy, I'll see you in class." The last part had sounded like a threat, but Draco knew Epanss wasn't stupid enough to threaten a student, not this student.  
  
He watched as the professor walked away up to the head table and then turned his attention back to the breakfast in front of him. His mind ran wild with questions about this new teacher. Draco didn't trust him, and he wished that Snape would hurry back. More and more people started to trickle in for breakfast. Normally Draco would have left but today he had to wait for Épanss to hand out the clash schedules first. He was soon joined by Gwen and Pansy, Pansy sat down next him, closer than he would have liked. Gwen smiled as she sat down across from him, it was a polite smile and not seductive, Draco smiled in return. Pansy's voice broke his eye contact, "I didn't see Crabbe and Goyle awake when I left, your door was shut and I think I heard them snoring through it. You might want to check on them." Her voice was soft and melodic, it soothed him as she spoke.  
  
"I'm tired of looking after them, let 'em fend for themselves." The edge of Pansy's mouth crinkled as she heard Draco speak this. He hadn't said it harshly, without tone really, but it didn't sound like the Draco she remembered. She put a few slices of buttered toast on her plate and ate slowly. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Draco kept glancing up at Gwen in between bites of food. She wondered what he was thinking. Draco could not stop looking at Gwen, thinking about her. The blond hair was nothing like his Mother's and her face was pleasant with ease. Here eyes were always kind, their deep blue always alight. Draco could not remember a time when he had seen her angry over the years, but she always held herself reserved. Reserved from what, he thought?  
  
He had always seen Gwen in the company of another, always with Pansy or with Blaise or Tracey, never alone. That must be horrible, he thought, to never have a moments peace. He would have rebelled and gained peace whether those he was with liked it or not. Draco saw that Gwen didn't need to be alone though, she had her own peace within her. He smiled at her again as she had a small sip from her glass, she blushed and turned away. Draco felt Pansy's eyes on him now and he broke his present gaze and returned it to his plate.  
  
Finally there were enough people sitting at the Slytherin table that Épanss started going up and down it handing out schedules. He smiled at every student, "Good way to help me get to know all of your names." He said this on many occasions. When he gave Draco his schedule, he did not smile, "'Course, I already know your name." This was a snide comment that Draco tried to ignore as he looked down his list of classes. This morning he had Transfiguration followed by History, then after lunch it was outside for Care of Magical Creatures with the Gryffindors. Draco wasn't looking forward to that class, he didn't really care to see Harry yet.  
  
He folded his schedule carefully and tucked it inside his robes. He got up from the table and picked up the potions book he'd brought with him. "See you guys in class." He smiled at Gwen and left the room.  
  
The halls were filled with students as he walked down to the dungeons, he needed to pick up his books for class. He opened the door to his room after descending all of the steps. Crabbe and Goyle were still sleeping in bed, they must have forgotten to set their alarms. He had decided he wouldn't wake them and so he crept through the room and opened his trunk noiselessly. He pulled out his transfiguration and history text. He tucked these under his arm and left his bedroom as quietly as he'd come in. The rest of that morning flew by in a blur for Draco. Crabbe and Goyle slept through all of Transfiguration and McGonagall sent Draco back to his dormitory to revive them before their History class. Draco woke them roughly and left before they could question him about anything. History was as boring as usual and Draco stared out the window the whole time.  
  
At lunch Draco was corner again, this time by Pansy, Tracey and Blaise, they sat: Pansy next to him, and the other two across from him. He smiled and nodded his head when they made jokes, and he said simply yes or no when asked directly anything. He ate quickly and excused himself. He saw Gwen glance as him as he left, she smiled at him and he returned it.  
  
Once outside he walked past Hagrid's hut where his next class would be and headed in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. He sat down in the seats with his sunglasses on and closed his eyes and thought. Ever since the start of his summer vacation things hadn't been right. He had tormented himself the entire time with the notion that he could be friends with Potter, but he saw now that it wasn't a reality. The two of them were too different, there was no way to make it work. He thought back to how he had been before this new friendship had arisen, desperate to please his Father, desperate to be happy.  
  
He let out a long sigh, he was always so hard on himself, he needed to have some fun. He got up from his seat and walked slowly towards his class. The others were already standing around, Crabbe, Goyle, Millicent, Blaise, Tracey, Pansy and Gwen, as well as the Gryffindors. He could see Harry standing with Weasley and Granger towards the front, they didn't see him approaching. Hagrid was just starting the class as Draco melted in with the group towards the back.  
  
Hagrid began by talking about his summer, he went on and on about how he had been in France and how beautiful it was. Draco started to feel sick after ten minutes. Then Hagrid talked about how they would all be taking their OWLs at the end of the year, and although he hadn't taken them personally he had heard they were quite hard. Draco tried to contain his laughter, he didn't think there was anyway that Hagrid would have graduated even if they hadn't expelled him. "Malfoy, whatter you sniggerin' at back there?"  
  
Draco let out a large smile now and shook his head, "I can't picture you taking the OWLs, that's all." The other Slytherins laughed at this and Hagrid turned beat red.  
  
Draco watched as Harry gave him a dirty look, Draco smiled at this, and then Hagrid went on with his lesson. He talked about all the new things they would be studying this semester and about all of the old things they would be reviewing, and how after Christmas they would be taking notes mostly so that they were prepared for the exam.  
  
At the end of class Draco joined Gwen as she walked with Tracey, the command that Draco held told her silently that he wished her to depart and a moment later she broke away and strode off by herself. Draco and Gwen walked slowly back to the castle together. "Is it true that you've been offered a place to try out next year for the English National Quidditch team?" Her voice was soft and low, Draco would love to listen to it for hours. He nodded slowly, a smile across his lips. "Wow, you must be really good then. I mean we all thought you were pretty good for Hogwarts but to play on the National team you've got to be great. And as a chaser too."  
  
Draco heard footsteps behind him and a voice, "He wouldn't have been offered that spot without me." Harry's voice was cold as he spoke these words. Draco turned to look at him, Gwen was tugging on his arm that they should just keep on going to the common room. "That was pretty cruel what you said to Hagrid back there."  
  
Draco shrugged, "It's true. Can you picture him, that big giant frame, sitting in one of our tiny desks, taking a test that have made students cry before? It's a hilarious thought."  
  
Draco's face remained unemotional during this time, and he sensed that Harry didn't like this. "Just watch what you say, Malfoy!" He pressed past Draco and Gwen and headed up the steps to the castle.  
  
Gwen didn't seem to have liked this exchange, Draco smiled warmly at her, "Don't worry about him, he's just mad at me." They began to walk back up towards the castle, Draco took his time, he enjoyed the weather today.  
  
"Why is he mad at you Draco?" Gwen's voice was curious, and she didn't sound at all as if she were curious for unusual circumstance, just curious.  
  
Draco let his mind wander and then decided on his answer, "Harry's mad at me because of what I did during the Quidditch cup game. My Mother dragged home after the first half and Harry thinks I should have stayed no matter what she said, or at least be able to come up with a reasonable excuse." Gwen had never heard Draco address Harry by his first name before. Her shocked expression was evident, "Over the summer we spent a lot of time together, I got to know him a little bit."  
  
Gwen's face twisted a little bit, "You mean that the two of you became friends?" She asked this in a way that portrayed the fact she thought it hard to believe.  
  
Draco nodded, "Yeah I guess we were kind of friends, in an odd sort of way. He was more a friend to me than anyone before him, that's for sure." They had reached the door inside and Draco held it open for Gwen.  
  
"Thanks." She muttered, "But I don't understand, if you two became friends, then why all of the hostility now over something so small?" Her eyes stared at him in amazement as they descended into the dungeons.  
  
"To Harry and I Quidditch is important. But more importantly to Harry is loyalty, and he doesn't think I'm a loyal friend." Draco realized that what he said was true and he hadn't realized it before. Harry's wasn't mad about him about the game, he was mad because he thought the whole thing had been some kind of act.  
  
"Why don't you just tell all of this to Harry?" Gwen asked, her voice sounded as if this were the most obvious course.  
  
Draco shook his head, "That's not going to happen and we both know that, Harry and I." They had come to the portrait hole, "Listen, ah Gwen, would you mind not mentioning this to anyone else?" His eyes pleaded with her, he hadn't even thought about this fact as they had been talking.  
  
She smiled up at him, a warm and almost loving smile, "Of course not Draco, I would never do that." She was very sincere in this and Draco returned her smile, why had he never had this kind of conversation with Gwen before, he thought? They both entered into their common room, Gwen went off and sat next to Pansy as she started their homework. Draco headed for his room, he had brought a desk with him two years ago and preferred to work there where he couldn't be interrupted. Solitude, complete solitude.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Wednesday morning came the morning that Draco had been dreading all week. It was on this morning that the Slytherins had their double potions class with the Gryyffindors and Professor Épanss. Draco woke up and knew that the day was going to be bad, he could feel it all around him. He didn't want to get up, he wanted to sleep the entire day away. He knew this wasn't a possibility and so he forced himself out of his warm and comfortable four poster. Is feet hit the ice cold floor and sent a shiver up and down his spine. The hot shower relaxed him and he felt more prepared for the coming day. He dressed in clean robes and left the common just as he heard other people beginning to stir.  
  
He ate a little bit of food in the Great Hall but for some reason he wasn't hungry. He didn't want to see Harry, he wanted to try and avoid him for the rest of the year. He knew this wasn't possible and he was glad Professor Snape wasn't around to force the two of them together as he was so fond of doing. He was curious as to how well Épanss was at teaching, Draco thought up some hard questions to ask, some that even he had had to look up.  
  
The Great Hall began to fill up and Draco made his way out quietly before he could be singled out by Pansy or Adrian or any of his Slytherin housemates for that matter. He found a quiet chair in the common room and sat down, he waited silently, just thinking. Finally it came time for him to leave and he made his way down the hall to the potions laboratory. There was a loud group gathered outside, the Slytherins made fun of the Gryffindors to each other, and vice versa. Draco saw Harry standing in the back of the Gryffindor group, he was talking quietly with Weasley and Granger, he wasn't paying attention to the banter, although Weasley was joining right in.  
  
Pansy, Tracey and Blaise were standing next to the door laughing, Crabbe, Goyle, and Millicent stood just behind them trying to understand the jokes the three made.  
  
It was just as Draco was arriving that the door was opened by Épanss. He was looking his jolly self, berret and all. "Ah, welcome, welcome! Come into the class now, that's where all of the precious learning takes place." He ushered them all into the laboratory.  
  
The Slytherins sat on one side and the Gryffindors on the other, Épanss began his class, "Well, now that you're all seated, we will begin." His voice was strong, empowered. "For the first semester, our sole grade will come from one project, you will work in pairs and I will assign the subject for each group." His eyes scanned the class quickly, it seemed to turn sour as he gazed at the Gryffindors. Perhaps he had been in Slytherin House, Draco thought. He seemed to speak sarcastic at the present, "Now let's see, everyone get into groups." People began to group up switching seats all over the room. Draco was beginning to wonder who a suitable partner might be when Épanss yelled out, "Wait!" Everyone froze where they were shocked at his harsh words. "Mr. Malfoy you and Mr. Potter will be a group, you worked so well together over the summer." So, Draco thought, this was how he was going to punish him for his words at breakfast the other day, to group him with Potter.  
  
Potter gave a look of plea over his shoulder to his friends as he crossed the class and sat down heavily next to Draco. He cast a spiteful glance at Draco and then shifted his eyes front again.  
  
"Now then," Épanss continued, "For your topics. Longbottom," he spit this word out quickly, pointing, "You and Milliecent, a nice easy one, strength potions." He pivoted on his feet, "Ms. Parkinson and Greingrass yours will be love potions, know you'll like that one." Draco saw Pansy smile appreciatively up at Épanss. He went around the room like this until he finally came to Harry and Draco, "Ah, a hard decision here, what to assign the famous Harry Potter and the infamous Draco Malfoy?" There were small sniggers around the class, Épanss smiled briefly at each of them, sharing their pleasure. "Why not irreversible potions." He wore a wicked smile and Draco thought that he saw something he recognized in it. He turned back around and faced the entire class, "The assignment will be a full meter long and should cover in depth whatever topic I assigned you, and please don't forget it." He cast his eyes in the direction of Neville and Draco held back a laugh. Harry snapped his head and stared at Draco, telling him to keep quiet. "Why don't you all go to the library now and get a good start on this?!" With that Épanss dismissed the class.  
  
Outside the class, Draco let the rest of the class go ahead of him, "Guess you're going to love this aren't you Potter, just let me do all of the work." He stared at Harry, a stare that could kill.  
  
Harry returned his stare, "That's what you think Malfoy, it's not like I enjoy this assignment, but at least this Épanss is better than Snape." His words were poison to Draco, these daring words.  
  
Draco recoiled slightly, "Épanss is just a coward who gives us lengthy assignments instead of teaching real potions." He hissed these words at Harry as his Mother might to him.  
  
"Let's just get this over with Malfoy. Maybe is we finish early we won't have to see each other the rest of the semester." Harry headed in the direction of the library after this, not waiting for an answer, he could hear Draco following behind him.  
  
The library was filled with Épanss' class, each in a different area. There were two to each desk and each table was piled high with books, Hermione's held the most. Draco and Harry took a table towards the back, their round table was full of strange books, mots of which Harry had never heard of before. The two worked in silence, each independent of the other.  
  
After nearly two hours, the class began to leave for lunch, Draco and Harry had accomplished so little though that they continued to work. The rows were silent and even the librarian had left. Harry threw down his book, "This is useless, Épanss gave us the hardest possible topic." The desperation was thick in his voice and he flopped his head down onto the desk. "This is all your fault."  
  
"My fault? How the hell is this my fault?" Draco was taken back, there was no way that Harry could blame him for the hard topic. "I don't know how it's your fault, but it is. Your arrogance probably forced him to assign it to us." His voice was muffled through the wood and his arms.  
  
Draco threw down his own book now, the anger grew in him, "This has got to stop. You want me to apologize for missing that last game, I apologize! You think I wanted to go home, don't you think I wanted to be there when the Knights won the first ever Jr. Quidditch Cup?" His voice was ringing throughout the library and Harry's eyes were wide, "It's not like a had a choice or anything. In the Malfoy family if my Mother of Father says go, you go." He paused and took a breath, "Do you want to know why my Mother dragged me away that night? Do you?!"  
  
Harry didn't speak, the silence hung around the two of them, absolutely still. Slowly Harry nodded his head.  
  
"My Mother dragged me away from our game because my Father had been hurt," he paused cautiously, there was no turning back now. "He was hurt fighting against the Giants." Recognition dawned in the eyes staring at Draco, but there was no judgement. The eyes urged him on. Draco continued, his voice lower now, filled with a sense of sadness almost. "He had been hit with spells and swords, he was dying. My Mother used an ancient potion, a mixture of my blood and the venom of a snake, to cure him. I helped bring my Father back to life." There was disgust in his voice, not pride. His eyes welled with tears, he wiped them away quickly.  
  
Harry's head nodded. There was acceptance on his face, but there was something else as well. "Yes, you helped bring back your Father, I helped bring back Voldemort. Now we're even and you know how I felt!" He flung himself up from the chair he was sitting in and stormed out of the library, hate and sorrow were the only emotions visible.  
  
Draco sat back in his chair. "I thought Harry wanted to hear that?" he thought silently in his head, "What did I do now?" He heard books falling a row over, someone else was in the library. He got up from the table hastily and practically ran to the next aisle, whoever it was had heard every word of Draco's testimony, and Draco had to do something. He saw the fluttering of a cloak and a burst of blond hair turning the corner at the end, he broke into a sprint. He rounded the corner and again saw the black cloak rounding the shelf, they were running past the desk Draco had just moments ago been sitting at. He ran faster and faster to catch up but they were already out the door and gone. He leaned heavily against the door jamb, another mystery to solve.  
  
That afternoon Draco and his classmates had their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class with Professor Mortessen. Draco picked out a few of the books he had been glancing through and left the library hastily. He had entirely mised lunch and if he didn't hurry he would be late for class. He rounded the final corner and saw his classmates, they queued up early outside of his room and waited patiently. Professor Mortessen opened the door finally a minute before the class was set to begin. He opened it very slowly and peered at the small group gathered, the expression he wore might well have been on a man's coming face to face with a venomous snake. His eyes were very cautious and he quickly composed himself, he looked Draco over one last time and then opened his door fully, sweeping his arm around the classroom, "Please, be seated, we'll begin soon." His voice sounded distant, it was low and controlled, it had not a hint of emotion.  
  
The class spilled into the room, each taking seats in a normal area for them, Draco assumed his seat at the back, Crabbe and Goyle sat in front of him. Pansy and the other four girls sat down on the other side towards the front.  
  
The man standing in the front of the room turned suddenly and whipped around to face his class, his eyes were filled with courage and excitement, "My name, is Professor Mortessen. I am on loan from the Ministry of Magic to this institution for one year." His words were cut short, he was very articulate and commanding. "I understand, that in the past, you have had unusual professors for this class, some that taught a lot and some that taught nothing. Well this semester will be very different for you then, I plan on reviewing everything that a fifth year student should know while teaching new subjects at the same time. You may find it hard to keep up as you are so far behind. At the start of ever class we will revive the study of old material and during the second half of every class we will begin our new studies. Each week there will be two homework assignments, one that you should have completed before and one which you have never had before. Our main topic this year will be the theory mind you, the theory, of dark arts and their practice. Now before we begin for today, are there any questions?" Mortessen spoke fast and sharp, his last statement was spoken as if a dare, challenging any student to ask a question of him.  
  
He glanced around the room, his face twisted, and he saw one hand raised in the air. "Mr. Malfoy I presume, you have a question?" He pronounced, Malfoy, with respect, a name not to be shamefully said.  
  
"I was wondering if you could tell us what department you worked for in the Ministry, is all." Draco's question was asked respectfully and in a curious manner. His eyes held the determination though, he wanted to know if this man had worked in an area worth working for, or as a secretary.  
  
"The department I work in, is of no importance to this class, I assure you I'm qualified." There was a note of finality in this that was undeniable and unrefutable. "Now let us begin our class," A hint of anger rose in his words, and the girls sitting at the front quivered slightly.  
  
They began by restudying subjects from their first year, things they had learned under Professor Quirrel, one of the true teachers they had been taught under. Quirrel may have been a little unusual, but his methods were good and he taught important information.  
  
The second half of the class they read theory after theory after theory, Draco was nearly bored to death, he never imagined that someone could turn something as exciting as the Dark Arts into a seminar as interesting as knitting. Draco noticed that Crabbe and Goyle sat in front of him in a complete stupor, they had absolutely no idea as to what was being taught. He chuckled at this softly and then went back to taking notes.  
  
Finally the class ended, Mortessen assigned them to write a three page essay on the combination of four theories on Dark Arts, and a chapter of reading from their first year. The assembled group stumbled out of this classroom tired, once in the hall their mood picked up slightly, they were free of Professor Mortessen for a full week.  
  
"That man gives me the creeps." Pansy shook her whole body in mock of her words. Some of the group laughed. "Don't you think Draco?" Her voice softened as she spoke to him, and her eyes flittered once.  
  
"I don't know," Draco answered assertively, "I think he'll do a good job, better than that nut case Werewolf, and he's certainly not as unusual as Professor Quirrel."  
  
This response didn't seem to please Pansy, her mouth crinkled slightly at the edges. "Oh Draco, I'm sure you'll absolutely love him, but I'm a little frightened," She spoke now in a very correct manner, but there was a hint of softness and vulnerability, "You'll protect me won't you Drac?"  
  
Her lips pouted and made Draco slightly sick. She had been acting more than a little strange since term had begun, she was always where Draco was. And now she was calling him Drac, he didn't like the direction this was going. "Of course." He answered her question in a bland tone, smiled once in a polite way, and then pushed him self away from the rest, "I have to see Madame Hooch about the Quidditch team, if you'll all excuse me." He sped off up the steps, his Dark Arts book under his arm. He could hear the muffled whispers of the group as he left, they were still unsure of the change he had endured and it's cause.  
  
He quickly found Madame Hooch's office and knocked politely on the door. He heard her call out softly from inside, "Come in." He pushed the door open and entered into the unfamiliar room. It's walls were covered with pictures of old Hogwarts Quidditch Cup champions, National Quidditch teams performing their signature plays over and over again, and a very old picture of a Hufflepuff House team was mounted her desk, Draco recognized her among the seven players.  
  
"What can I do for you Mr. Malfoy?" She closed the small hand book she had been reading and set it down in front of her as she looked up at him. Her eyes didn't hold the hatred that many of the other teachers' did when looking at him, he wondered if it was because he had proved himself on the field as a formidable player.  
  
He cleared his throat, "Well I was wondering about my Quidditch team."  
  
Recognition dawned in her eyes and she nodded, "Ah yes, you're the new Slytherin team Captain aren't you? Quite an honor it is to be a captain." She paused and consulted a piece of parchment laying on her desk and then continued, "Let's see, the other captains this year are Cho Chang, THE HUFFLEPUFF CAPTAIN and Harry Potter of course, which you already knew. Ms. Chang has booked the field for this weekend, she needs to fill one or two spaces, Mr. Potter is only filling one position, he'll be doing this Wednesday night, and so that leaves any day open between now and next Sunday. What day would you like?"  
  
Draco thought for a moment, "I'll take next Saturday please, I have to fill up six spaces." She smiled and wrote this down on a calendar that he hadn't seen before.  
  
"Okay then, after you pick your team you will have to let me know who all of your players are, only these students will be allowed to compete in any school match up. Here is an official school Quidditch rule book, you should acquaint yourself with it, but you need not memorize it. And the last thing would be your first game, which will be November first against the Ravenclaw team. Let me know when you wish to have practices, you must schedule them at least one week ahead of time, but no more than a month. After everyone has one game, a permanent schedule will be put together." She folded her hands into a steeple, "If there's nothing else Mr. Malfoy?" She peered at him quizically.  
  
Draco shook his head once, "No that's everything, thank you." He smiled once and left the room, closing the door gently behind him. He flipped once through the Quidditch book and then headed off in the direction of the common room. Students were busy in the hallways going from place to place, Draco ignored most of them. There was one student however that could not ignore. Harry strode was striding up the main set of stairs as Draco was coming down, "Malfoy! Malfoy!"  
  
Draco shook his head once to clear his thoughts and focused on Potter, he still looked just as upset as earlier. "What do you want now, Potter?" Draco sneered this as they stood in the middle of the stairs attracting attention.  
  
"I've thought of a way to solve our little problem. We have some unfinished business from first year that will do the trick nicely." His voice was fluid as he spoke and his eyes glinted with excitement in the flame torch light. "You owe me a duel."  
  
A sudden understanding came to Draco, he remembered luring Harry into a duel and warning Filch that he was to be in the trophy room that night after hours. Draco wonder whether Harry was going to do the same thing to him, "Yes, it seems to me I remember something about that, nearly got caught by Filch too. What if you're going to do the same thing to me?"  
  
Harry shook his head, "I have more honor than that Malfoy."  
  
Draco hated the way Harry had a selective memory, sometimes remembering the old Draco and sometimes remembering the new. "But Harry," Draco spoke innocently, "I don't have a second."  
  
"Damn seconds!" He nearly screamed this and Draco looked as everyone's eyes turned on them, questioning this sudden outburst from Harry Potter. "In the trophy room, tonight, midnight, and don't bring a second." At the end of these strong and hushed words Harry turned and strode up the remainder of the steps, his cloak trailing lightly behind him.  
  
Draco had never seen Harry like this before and he found it hard to believe that he had everything to do with it. It might have been true last year that Draco could get Harry acting this way if he had wanted to, but since the cup game Draco had hardly spoken to Harry. He shook his head in aggravation and headed back in the direction he had been walking before the confrontation.  
  
The dungeons got colder and colder until he came to the familiar portrait and entered the common room. People sat crowded around the room in the black leather chairs clustered near the round wooden tables. Pansy's sat with Blaise and Tracey, they sat at a table near the well built fire, her head came up and she watched Draco walked across the room into the corner and begin to read his manual. A moment later Draco felt someone sit down across from him, he continued to read. He heard her clear her throat and finally he spoke, "What is it that you want Pansy, I'm trying to learn these mundane rules for my team?" His head was still buried in the book as the words flowed, they seemed to anger Pansy.  
  
"Draco Malfoy, what is the matter with you lately?" Her voice was low and high pitched, it reminded him of his Mother's, a hiss. "Ever since we started this new year it seems that something has been wrong. You know you can tell me if something's bothering you." Her voice tried to sound soothing and sincere, he felt her cold hand on his arm, running slowly up in down, trying to feel comforting.  
  
He folded his book over on his lap and pulled his arm away from her slowly. He measure out his voice so that it sounded the way he intended it, and also so that he didn't betray his promise. "Pansy, the way before I left for school, my Father was injured and they used my blood and snake venom to cure him." He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the jagged scar that had been pulled across his arm.  
  
Her eyes widened in wonderand she ran her fingers over the scar slowly, analyzing it all, filled with excitement, "How?" Her voice was inquisitive and it hurt Draco, his eyes became blurry, "What do you mean, how? Don't you care that it hurt like hell and that I passed out afterwards?" His sharp words resounded, there was pain in him at the response to her request. She didn't care about him, she didn't care.  
  
He picked up his book and stormed out of the common room and down the steps to his dormitory. He swung the door open brutally and slammed it shut. There was no sign of his roommates and he was glad for this. He flung the Quidditch manual onto his four poster and sat down at his desk to start on the homework Mortessen had assigned. The work wasn't nearly as hard as he thought it would be, he only had to compare two things, there was nothing difficult. He finished within an hour and was only just in time for the last bit of dinner.  
  
The Great Hall was nearly empty save a few people. At the Gryffindor table sat the three people he enjoyed seeing the least, Granger, Weasley, and Weasley, there was no sign of Harry. He pulled his eyes from them, he didn't want to start anything, he just wanted to eat and then find something interesting to pass the time until he was ready to go to the trophy room. At the Slytherin table there were a few first years and sitting in his regular seat was someone he hadn't expected to see eating alone. He walked down the long table until he was standing over his seat, the person in it was oblivious to him standing their, they were lost in their own thoughts.  
  
Draco cleared his throat and spoke softly, "You're in my spot Gwen." His voice held no command in it for her to get up, it was simply stated in a curious manner, almost questioning. Gwen was startled by the sudden interruption of her solitude. She made to move from the seat she occupied, muttering apologies, her head lowered. She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, "It's alright Gwen, I was joking." Draco had a smile on his face and he sat down to the right of Gwen as she re-seated herself in his usual seat. He carefully put a few things onto his plate and filled his goblet, "Would you like some more?" He asked smoothly. The girl sitting next to him nodded and he filled her goblet as well. For a little while the two ate in silence, it wasn't an awkward silence by definition, but the conversation was kept to a minimum. Finally though the question would not leave Draco's mind, "How come you were sitting here all by yourself Gwen?" He had put down his utensils and took a small sip from his glass.  
  
She looked uneasy at the question, she shifted her weight subtly, squirming. "I, well, you know, they all eat fast, and I just got left behind to finish, that's all Draco?" She tried to sound strong and reassuring, but at best she came off only slightly believable. Draco narrowed his eyes at her in a playful fashion. She let out a long sigh, "I saw the exchange between you and Pansy, and I heard it, when I asked her about it she seemed angry and then I told her that she shouldn't treat you that way and she kind of flipped." She swallowed hard, as if by telling someone this she had broken a vow. "She said that if that's the way I felt that then I wasn't welcome among their group for dinner. It seemed that everyone agreed with this and so when they left for the Great Hall I finished my homework and then came up here when they re-entered the common room, they all gave me dirty looks as they passed."  
  
She seemed on the verge of tears, "Gwen, you don't have to stick up for me. Pansy thinks that just because we went to the Yule Ball together we have something, but we don't and I remind her of that every chance I get." Gwen smiled at this and Draco returned her smile warmly. "You let me know if Pansy says anything else to you, we're all Slytherins and she can't talk to anyone like that, not without my permission." When Draco mentioned the Slytherin name, he could see Gwen shudder. Was it that bad being in the Slytherin house with Pansy? If it was, Gwen could hide it quite well, in the four years that he had been a classmate of Gwen's Draco couldn't remember her being like this before. "Hey, do you want to go up to the observatory and take a look up at the heavens, there's suppose to be a meteor shower tonight?"  
  
Gwen shook her head slowly, "We're not allowed out after dinner Draco, you know that." Draco seemed a little taken back, how did Gwen get into the Slytherin house obeying rules?  
  
"What are you suddenly part of Hufflepuff or something? Come on it's not like there's a meteor shower every night." She seemed to be torn trying to decide her course of action.  
  
She was weighing her choices, the benefits and consequences, "Well, I don't know Draco." She seemed to have her doubts as she spoke these slow words.  
  
Draco grabbed her hand and pulled her up from the table, "It's settled then." He led them quickly out of the Great hall and up towards the observatory. Rushing past all the students on their way to the respective dormitories the two made their way hurriedly up the many flights of stairs.  
  
At last they came to the door that led outside and onto the astronomy deck. Draco opened it carefully and peered out to make sure there was no one outside, sometimes the first years were required to observe these nighttime delights. On this night though there was no such class and Draco led Gwen out onto the deck. It was fully dark by now, the deck was only lit by the light of the crescent moon that hung just over the edge of the forest. They walked out onto the deck and sat down on one of the many stone benches that lined the outer portion. They stared up at the sky silently, watching for movement. Instantly they began to see the meteors burst into flames as they hit the Earth's atmosphere. "There's one." Draco called pointing up quickly.  
  
Gwen missed it though, "I don't see it." Her voice was soft in the night air.  
  
"There's another one." Draco called quickly, cutting her off as she spoke. She looked up fast but missed it again. Draco smiled at her, she looked quite annoyed. Finally he stopped calling them out as he saw them. They seemed to fill the entire sky now in one giant shower, there wasn't a way possible that Gwen could miss them.  
  
They continued to sit quietly, in awe of the natural event, each one just sitting and staring. The moon moved slowly over the forest and after nearly an hour it cast too much light into the sky. "I think we should go down now Draco, we can't see anymore any ways."  
  
Draco nodded in agreement and together they walked casually through the halls to their common room. They didn't encounter any teacher, and before Draco would have liked they were outside the portrait hole. He stopped before giving the password, "This was fun Gwen, we should sneak out again sometime."  
  
She looked up into his steel gray eyes and nodded, a smile made it's way across her face. There was something new about Draco that she liked, something that had never been there before, not even in modesty. In years past, Draco Malfoy would have joined in her punishment for speaking out against Pansy. What had happened over the summer to change him so dramatically, she thought? It must have been something quite major, and she knew that he was holding it back from her, from Pansy, from everyone. He held the portrait open and let Pansy through to the common room. "Aren't you coming in Draco?" She turned around, watching him from inside.  
  
Draco shook his head, "I've got something to do." He said this as if it were homework, he didn't want to worry Gwen.  
  
He began walking away from the painting, "Wait Draco! Does this have something to do with the argument you had with Harry Potter earlier?"  
  
Draco pivoted quickly on his feet, "That was you in the library listening?" His voice was a mixture of anger and amazement. "What were you doing in the library after everyone else left?"  
  
"I was finishing up some work for the project Pansy and I are doing." She shrugged her shoulders showing that she didn't think much about this.  
  
"To answer your question, no, it doesn't have anything to do with the argument I had with Potter in the library." He tried not to sound angry, and he wasn't truly lying to Gwen, which he wanted to avoid. "I'll talk to you tomorrow." He smiled once reassuring her and then turned and left again.  
  
He walked the halls very cautiously, he peered around the corners as he came to them. The halls were just as bare as before, he had only to avoid a few late night ghosts. Finally he came to the trophy room. He looked around quickly but there was no one there yet. It was still a few minutes to midnight. He walked around and looked at the different plaques in the cases. He heard watched hand click as it hit twelve. He was beginning to wonder if Potter was going to show up, perhaps he had set him up and the teachers were on their way. He made his way quickly towards the door, he wasn't getting caught by a teacher. There was a loud wind behind him, like a draft and a voice spoke out, "Leaving already Draco, just like a Malfoy!"  
  
Draco swung around, Harry was standing there against the far wall, a luminous cloak sitting on the floor. He wore a wicked sort of grin, his wand was in his hand at his waist. "Trying to get a good advantage sneaking up behind me, is that it Potter?" He pulled his own wand from underneath his cloak quickly and brought it out on Harry.  
  
Harry brought his wand up now to the casting position and slowly began to circle around the room so that he was so cut off from the entrance. "Well, if I did sneak up on you it would only make up for you casting early in second year."  
  
Draco smiled, circling Harry around in the same manner, "Yes that was amusing wasn't it? You didn't even know how to block a spell then!" He grinned wider but Harry didn't seem to enjoy this joke.  
  
"Yes, well I know how to block one now, and I've learned to cast some more as well, not just laughing curses and jelly legs." There was no note of fun in his voice, Harry meant every word of the subtle threat.  
  
The two continued to circle slowly, neither one attempting to cast yet. "Why don't we stop dancing and duel Potter, unless you're scared." Draco acted as if he were back in second year now, he was trying to call Harry out before he was ready. Harry stopped dead in his tracks now, he stared at Draco intently, his wand held in front of him like a sword. Draco brought his up to the same level now and returned his stare, which one would cast first, Draco thought? At the smallest twitch or spasm the other would cast now with full force. The two's eyes were locked, each searching for a hint of thought, an intuition to strike.  
  
Suddenly the door to the trophy room sprung open with a loud bang. Harry and Draco spun in it's direction, both of their wands still at the ready, each poised to cast. "Mr. Potter, Mr. Malfoy, lower your wands and explain yourselves!" The voice of Épanss was cold and harsh, neither one knew what he would do to them. They lowered their wands as they had been told, each with a worried look on their face. Draco cast a quick and worried look at Harry who seemed to be wearing the same expression. "Now, Mr. Potter, would you please explain yourself." Harry thought that perhaps Épanss wasn't any better than Severus, he had already seemed to make up his mind about Harry.  
  
"Well you see sir, Draco wanted to see my Special Award for Service plaque and I didn't have time during the day."  
  
"Yeah, Harry was telling me that Dumbledore gave him one for his deeds in the Chamber of Secrets and I didn't believe him. I bet him a galleon that he was lying." Draco took a galleon out of his pocket and handed it very ceremoniously to Harry, who accepted it with a nod.  
  
Épanss looked from one boy to the next, he looked very confused at the whole situation, but obviously wasn't fooled by their joint lie. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the two, he was obviously trying to decide what to do. Did he not have these type of raucous students in France, Draco thought? "I'm giving you each detention, to be served with me Saturday night, and you will each owe me a paper on the proper dueling technique and a brief history. Now off to bed!" His voice was sharp and he didn't seem happy with his decision. Harry picked up his cloak quickly and followed Draco out before Épanss changed his mind.  
  
As soon as they were out the door and around a corner, they both burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Did you see his face?" Draco cried in between laughs.  
  
Harry's eyes had welled up with tears, he had sunk to the floor and couldn't answer Draco. After five minutes of laughing from the two of them they gradually tapered off. Harry got up off the floor and wiped his eyes. "Okay, well I guess I'm going to head off to bed now like Épanss said. See you Saturday night." Harry turned around and began heading up the giant steps.  
  
"Hey Harry wait a second." Draco called out quickly, "Are we alright now?" His voice was sincere, he wanted to know if he and Harry were back where they had left off at the end of summer.  
  
Harry smiled once, a cunning smile, and shrugged his shoulders, "Don't know what you're talking about Draco, see you Saturday." He turned and left now, and Draco didn't stop him with another question, he knew the answer.  
  
He walked casually through the dark and quiet halls now and made his way back the dormitories. There was a spring in his step and Draco was feeling better tonight than he had since that fateful night with his Father nearly a week ago. He climbed through the portrait hole, the common room was deserted. The fire had gone out and it was fitfully cold, he went quickly down the steps to his room. There was no one left and Draco pleased with that. Draco tip-toed across the room, trying not to wake Crabbe and Goyle. He changed into his silk pajamas and pulled back the curtains to his bed. He picked up his manual and set it casually onto the table next to his bed and pulled the curtains around him. He fell asleep thinking about the night he had just experienced, the unexpected argument with Pansy, and the new friendship he felt forming with Gwen, and a new start with Harry. Things could be starting to look up, he thought to himself, and then fell sound asleep. 


End file.
